"And they lived, Happily Ever After"When I was on the verge of succumbing to insanity because my brain was too simple to understand the complexity of complex numbers, two silhouettes entered my vision field, and took the table adjacent to ours. Nothing too interesting about them at first, until what they did grabbed my attention.
Actually, it was more of what they were DO-ing, which took way too long. Both of them grabbed the edge of the table to support their weight while painstakingly bending their knees to a sitting position. I say, none of you can feel the way I felt unless you see the whole process happening right in front of you. Old age must have taken a toll on them. Their knees were shaking violently, and so were their arms. I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted so much to rescue them (and myself) out of this agony.
Just before I sprang on my feet, they managed to be seated on their chairs. I could almost hear my sigh of relief. Then I started to observe them.
There were barely any exchange of words. Audible words, that is. All there were, were eye contacts. It was as if actions suffice any other word that ought to be said, and eye contacts overrate everything else. Little gestures such as Old Granpa handing Grandma a piece of paper hankerchief for her to wipe that little traces of juice left on her lips, so casual, yet showing much depth of what they have that is unique to them - LOVE.
Yes, LOVE. A four lettered word much pursued by most, if not every, living being. And today, I was presented, right before my eyes, a true display of LOVE.
They ate in silence, they communicated with each other in silence, merely through glances and little gestures.
Despite his arthritis, Old Grandpa rushed to get Grandma some water to go with her medicine.
He did not need to ask what Grandma wanted to have for lunch, for he knew the answer very well.
Despite his stiff fingers, Old Granpa still helped Grandma cut up her fish, and poured a little ketchup on every other piece of fries on her plate. Later, he even gestured Grandma her portion of salad. He was concerned if Grandma's fish and chips was too oily for her.
There was a period of time, though not long per se, where Grandpa wasn't at his seat. He must have gone somewhere. Then I looked at Grandma. Calm as she always was, she sat comfortably on the wooden chair, patiently waiting for her husband's return. She started taking paper hankerchiefs and folded them into little triangles. I thought she was trying to occupy herself during the wait.
I took a few peeps at her the whole time. Even I was anxious as to where Grandpa has gone for he disappeared for very long. I made glances at the entrances to see if he was back. But Grandma was not the least anxious. She knew her husband will come back. She knew no matter how long he took, he will come back. Therefore she was not impatient, not anxious. Something was coming out of her, though she made no figetting, no sound, merely folding her paperhankerchief. It was trust.
Trust. In yourself and your significant other. Hard to gain, easy to lose, as they claim.
How many of us really put our trust on others? Do you trust your boyfriend/girlfriend as must as Grandma trusts Grandpa?
Every action was done with precise meaning, like a code, which only their partner will comprehend. To outsiders like me, it's another astonishment. They, the outsiders, can never unwind the subtleties of meanings and feelings both of them share.
It's like a code. THEIR code.
I know not of their past, but certainly they looked like they lived a wonderful past with each other.
A fairytale, spun out of fate, embellished with love, and held intact with trust.
How wonderful a pair! How envious will the world be at their blissful life!
Finally, Old Grandpa returned. I heaved a sigh of relief again, on behalf of Old Grandma. He came back with a loaf of bread in a grocery bag. Instinctively, he came over and helped Grandma stand up. I should think it must be agonizing for someone with arthritis and old age to stand up after she sat down for near to 45minutes.
In silence, again, they left, both supporting each other as they walked out of the cafe.
In silence, I watched their backs as they left, thinking about how I would be when I reach an age as old as theirs. Deep down inside, I sincerely gave them my best of wishes.
Portrayal of a 'happy ever after' could never be more apt.
