the dance

He stumbled around with the flip top phone, arthritic fingers fat-thumbing a call home to his wife hoping she could decipher the crumbled list in his fist.

He hung up as I reached for the butter, his eyes studying the biscuit and cookie dough products before he said he couldn't find the pie crust his sweetie needed.

I helped him look, a man better suited for veterans' day parades in his windbreaker; a man that brings to mind words like Saving Private Ryan and the Greatest Generation.

When we both failed to find the right crust, he reassured me with a wink and a nod that it wasn't the first time he couldn't find what she was looking for. And something about the tenderness in his voice told me they'd share a laugh over it later, after dinner, while she complained cheerfully to and about her beloved, retracing a dance that makes up years well spent.

Comments

Madge said…
this is beautiful. so sweet and nostalgic. something we could all hope for.
Lori said…
oh, I love elderly men...not in a funny way either! :) They are so sweet!
Lola Bacon said…
That totally made me cry!
So touching. I can really feel the tenderness in their relationship (and the kindness of a stranger at the grocery store).
Beautiful.

You captured that moment beautifully.
dkuroiwa said…
Jeez Louise, Lisa...I'm just a puddle over here!

May we all have a partner such as that lovely older man in our lives.
Shana said…
Be it fiction or a random encounter at the grocery store, nice job, Mama Milton.
Saucy said…
Good to see you writing and blogging and making us think and feel things.
lapoflux said…
I love this post, I've read it about 4 times now (lazy blogger log in... ahem!)

I hope to be the woman on the other end of the phone one day, who doesn't really mind the pie crust.

Beautifully written.

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