Wednesday, August 07, 2013

Store Story #662

Recently, an elderly couple came into our store in Naples, Florida to discuss some aspect of their account. The lady, somewhat heavy-set, moved quite well and set in her seat with ease. The gentleman, skinny and slightly hunched over, with wisps of gray hair futilely covering his balding head, struggled to his chair. I asked how I could help.

She began discussing her issue, but soon started blinking her eyes in the sunlight that was beaming through the near window directly at her face. Her husband immediately noticed this, struggled back up off his chair, bent slightly over, awkwardly reached out, and with both hands formed a shade that blocked the sun from her eyes.

He looked--well, he looked like an idiot.

"Oh sweetheart," she said. "Please, you don't have to do that."

He replied that it was no problem, just continue.

"I had eye surgery a decade ago," she told me. "I'm supposed to be careful with sun exposure, but I haven't really been sensitive to it for years." She acted frustrated that her husband was in this weird position near her.

But her acting wasn't very good. Her lips curled up slightly at the ends and there was a sparkle in her eyes. Her knight in shining armor was protecting her.

So, sitting behind my desk, seeing this old man looking like some kind of breathing gargoyle playing first base, and this old lady, sitting prim and proper, hiding a smile while she has a weird shadow over her eyes, it hit me what exactly I was looking at.

I was looking at true love.

In that moment, there was nothing more important to that man than his wife, and weird position be damned, he wasn't going to let anything hurt her. I wondered if I would ever love someone that much. I decided I definitely would. Someday.

I also decided that true love could make a man look pretty stupid.