He sits there alone
in a red plastic chair
waiting to see the doctor—
tries not to envy
the man and woman
across from him
arms folded
across their chests
the way old married people do.
Once we were like that.
At least they’re not holding hands
he mumbles to himself
then immediately regrets it
even wishes they would kiss
time together is so precious.
The man and woman
get up
to see the doctor—
he listens to the rhythm
of a heartbeat
looks at the two of them
and says
you should hold hands more
it’s good for the heart.
John A. Bayerl, February 14, 2012
Over the years I have kept and cherished valentine cards that Gwen gave me. Each one has specific memories attached to it, but the one that means the most is a simple home-made one--a piece of red construction paper folded in half with a white, cutout heart glued to the front.
Above the heart she wrote:
To My Wonderful
Husband
In the white heart she wrote, in red ink:
I Love You
Inside the card she wrote:
For loving me as I am,,
For being you,
For giving me you,
I love you,
Gwen
Below all that she wrote:
P. S. You are my Valentine!
No gifts were ever necessary, Dear, not when we had the gift of each other. Oh, and that P. S. was kind of cute too.
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Comments
A little love story....my sister and I have been cleaning out my mom's things since she passed away last July. Her closets and drawers and shelves are stuffed with odd items she stashed and forgot. In the pocket of a jacket, I found a valentine she'd intended to give my dad, still in its envelope, never delivered. Inside, written in her shaky Alzheimer hand, "I love you." A moment long enough and lucid enough to tell him , before the fog closed back in.
I know you passed on some love to the couple in the doctor's office.
Lance used to give me cards, ones his secretary bought for him to give me. He probably thought I wouldn't know, but she is Mormon and he was Jewish, there were some fundamental differences. He always personalized it though and it meant the world to me the one year we went to dinner and he gave me an antique, three-strand pearl bracelet. It was the only real Valentine's gift he ever gave me...besides his love.