The old man stood there, patiently holding the red blooms in the cool morning air. His wife rumaged through the farmers market booth, inquiring about the wares. Time passed and he continued just to smile.
I can relate, as I have spent countless hours waiting on my wife. I used to carry a book with me everywhere we went, just in case our quick stop became a shopping safari. While it provided a distraction and probably saved me from making a few exasperated comments, I think I have gained a little different perspective over the years.
The glint in her eyes and the little girl in her smile as she tries on a new dress. The care as she thinks through purchases for the boys. Watching her paint a picture of with the flowers she selects to surround the house.
I will be honored to one day, when my hair grows silver, smile and hold red blooms and continue to wait on the little girl, who became the woman, who stole my heart.