On the secret of his longevity:
With his characteristic twinkle, he said something like, “Well, way back nearly 70 years ago when my wife and I got married, we made a solemn pledge that we would never fight or argue within the walls of our home.”I was impressed, but thought he must not have heard the question. But after a brief pause, he went on, “That’s how I’ve lived so long — spent so much time in the out-of-doors!” -Elder LeGrand RichardsI like to watch people. It’s entertaining. Go to the mall. The airport. A bus station. Or just sit in a crowded park. There’s always a drama unfolding. A story being told. Sometimes you can watch, and make up your own story. Other times, you watch and the story reveals itself. It’s an ongoing process, happening around us everyday. But you have to watch. Look. And let it in. Like a good book, sometimes the story just tells itself. A musician will tell you that while it’s great to play a large venue, it’s the small stages with small crowds that bring out their best. And while it’s fun to watch people in large areas, those stories revealed in intimate settings almost allow you to become part of the story. Or at least to understand it better.
In a room full of strangers, the couple stood out from the rest. She, wearing a maroon sweater that mostly covered the white oxford shirt, with the collar peeking out around the neckline. Wire frame glasses, hair cut short and neat, with just enough salt mixed in with the pepper so that you knew either it was natural or her hair stylist was masterful. Blue jeans and bright, probably polished, white sneakers rounded out the ensemble. He, on the other hand, not quite so pristine. Scuffed and worn work boots, with laces hanging down revealing they weren’t properly laced. . Well worn blue jeans, tattered at the bottom from dragging the ground. His greasy hat simply said “Veteran”, and he wore an army fatigue jacket, his name patch loose on one end. His eyeglasses were noticeably smudged, and he seemed to be in a continuous state of motion. The section of newspaper he held was folded down to quarter size, as if the only thing he wanted to see was that one story. He held it upside down. She, sitting patiently, would lean over and read something to him from her section of the paper. She would point to a picture, he would nod and smile. She turned his newspaper right-side-up, and then got him a cup of coffee. He quickly spilled about half. She cleaned it up, and got him another cup. Half full. In the meantime, he had flipped his newspaper back upside down. She smiled, as if knowing it was a losing battle.
Patiently she sat there as he squirmed like a child. Words between them spoken so softly, as if they were reading lips. And then it happened. The service writer came out to explain some options to them. As he began addressing the Missus, she asked that he explain things to her husband. Throughout the explanation, the gentleman nodded his head, glancing at his wife, and appearing to understand everything being said. When the service writer finished, the gentleman looked at his wife, and without a word being spoken, he nodded his head and then shook his head. She, in turn, explained what their decision would be. Others in the room were watching. They didn’t seem to notice.
Later, car repaired, they prepared to leave. She settled their bill, then turned to her husband and asked, “Honey do you mind if I drive?” He simply nodded, walked around, and opened the door for her.
True love breeds respect. No matter the arguments, disagreements, conflicts, or whatever the issues may be, in today’s world, we just throw things away. Give up. Throw a fit if we don't get our way. But once in awhile, you see someone who doesn’t believe in throwing things away. And theirs is a story worth telling,
Remember, the stories are out there. You just have to look, and let them in.
