Part deux

Today at work I was being contemplative (as contemplative as you can be while taking orders, filling drinks, and ensuring your customers are happy), and then I got a table with three old people. Digression--There was a time I didn't like old people. It was more of a fear than a dislike though. I had only encountered mean old people, you know, the kind that nothing ever pleased who always seem bitter and all that. I spent a year working with old people, both in an assisted living home and in a mental health facility. That was a humbling time for me and also a lesson in the cycle of life. As babies we are clothed, fed, and cleaned by people, some more familiar to us than others. As we get older, we pride ourselves in our ability to clothe, feed, and clean ourselves... We are in control. When we get old we are essentially back to the baby stage. Some will fight it... others will be defeated by it... but few of us will find a middle ground somewhere between the defeat and the struggle...

So this table of mine, they were nice. One of the men, the one that was there with his wife, he was hard of hearing. He would look to her for confirmation of everything I said and she would repeat it all to him patiently, gently, with a slight touch to his arm. As they left the restaurant, husband and wife held hands leaning on one another for strength. Here were these two 80-90some old couple and still they held hands. That warmed my heart. It was then I realized it...


In yesterday's blog I wrote that maybe God had placed so many other important things on my heart that marriage kind of takes a back seat. That is not entirely true. I know I have many passions and yes being married defintely is nowhere on that list but here is the thing... I think sometime ago I stopped believing in hand holding at age 80. I think because of past experiences I don't believe husbands and wives remain gentle and patient with each other. I think I believed we eventually forget the slight touch to the arm... Have I seen couples do this? Yes! 

My parents are an example. I see the way my dad looks at my mum sometimes. I hear in her voice how much she cares for him, even when she is angry with him. And then that respect is there between them... He leads and she follows, but sometimes he lets her lead. I think sometime ago I stopped believing that could happen to me...

So today, day 2 of my contemplation, I have a new understanding of a fear that plagues me. I don't have a solution for it yet, but at least I recognize it. Here's to more 'understandings' and 'recognitions' and maybe to the birth of the potential for hand holding at 80...










images from google images