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| Monday, September 04, 2006 |
| Blissful Dreaming |
When I entered the room she was dozing quietly, her left arm folded over her chest her right hand holding her chin up. He was leaning heavily toward her on the couch, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he watched her fading in and out of sleep. He didn't speak to her. His eyes were full of a love thats endured longer than most. So great was his adoration, so palpable, you could nearly taste it on the air. Blissfully unaware of his gaze, a soft gurgling of breath escapes her open mouth, and she stirs ever so slightly to wipe her lips. I felt as I was, an intruder on one of the most simple, beautiful moments that make love addictive. My rude interruption was not noticed, he did not take heed of my morbid presence, he merely sat continuing his vigil. With each sigh his gaze grew fonder. For forty-five minutes this continued. Sadly I had to be the one to break the spell, temperatures needed to be taken, blood pressures gauged, we must check your pulses and count your respirations. It is imperative that you eat now, it's in the schedule, and to that we must adhere.
I have seen him slightly nip her elbow. I have seen the look that is passed between them. When she speaks of her husband, she stands ever so slightly taller, prouder. She has but to ask and he is there, he has but to mention and she attends his needs. No, they aren't twenty anymore. No, they are no longer concerned with conception. No, she isn't trying to impress him with her cooking. No, he isn't trying to prove his manly worth by bringing home a steady paycheck.
They are ninety years old. They were twenty once. They have burned for one another. They have fought their battles, had their strife, raised their children and grandchildren. They have been to countless social functions, have had countless nights sleeping on couches and not speaking to one another. At the end of their lives, they choose to keep the company of one another. They sleep with each other in one bed. Where one wanders, the other is sure to follow. When they can not, they wander listlessly, pointlessly, lost.
And when they dream, it is blissful in nature. A head bobs, a sigh is born. While one angel rests, the other keeps watch, admiring her dreams from afar. |
posted by katmandusuekookachoo @ 9:11 PM  |
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