I never planned to feature a man.
Then I met Ed. Hours after we went our separate ways, I realized this total stranger had left such an imprint on my life, I had to share his story.
I work at a home furnishings store and last week, Ed and his wife Sue came in to buy a throw. Sue moved extremely slow as if she just got out of surgery and every step was pure agony. Ed patiently trailed behind as I guided Sue to the display tables. He stood nearby while she deliberated which color was best and whether she should even buy it.
"How long have you two been married?" I asked attempting to fill the time.
Sue smiled, but didn't answer. Instead, she looked at Ed.
"Fifty nine years," he said.
"Wow, what's your secret?"
I noticed Sue's vibrant blue eyes and silver white bob. Just a hint of mascara coated her lashes and she wore a soft pink lipstick. She had a chunky Grandma-type figure (short with rounded edges) and wore a white sweater set with tan high waisted pants and spotless white leather sneakers.
Again, Sue smiled at Ed, a lean silver haired Grandpa-type in a collared shirt, khakis and a navy canvas zip-up jacket. He looked down, smiled, then turned toward me as if I asked directions and he was trying to figure out the most direct route.
"A lot of hard work and a lot of prayin'," He said, adding, "Sue's had health issues."
Together, they ran down her ailments. Around 20 years ago, Sue slipped on black ice, fell down a flight of stairs and laid outside with a crushed ankle and her leg broke in four places.
"My hair nearly froze off," she said.
A few years later, Sue had a brain tumor and then surgery to remove it, followed by a heart attack and surgery for a pacemaker. Most recently, she had a stroke that left her paralyzed on one side.
"That's been the hardest," Sue said slowly, explaining how she's had to learn everything all over again.
I looked over at Ed who was watching his wife. His kind eyes told what he never said, how he's learned to accept the changes, her limitations and find joy in the added responsibilities.
I'm a sucker for a good love story, but in an attempt to not lose control, I quickly changed the subject.
"How was your Thanksgiving?"
"Great," Sue said.
"We had 18 people over," Ed added.
"Who cooked?" I blurted out before out before I could can catch myself. "I mean, did everyone bring something?"
Sue just smiled and looked at Ed.
"I did the cooking," Ed said. "I learned how in the army."
Ed made chicken, stuffing, potatoes, macaroni and cheese, broccoli, sweet potatoes, turnip greens and at least five other dishes, along with a coconut cake.
"The only thing I can't make is biscuits. The dough sticks to my fingers," he said, mimicking how he wipes the dough off.
Hours later, I recognized the gift Ed left behind.
He reminded me if you're married or committed to someone, the secret to aging gracefully together is three-fold. Savor the good. Accept the "whoa-I-never-thought-I'd-be-doing-this" parts. And third, find joy in the every day things, the simple little stitches that bind your souls.
