The stain glass window to my right with a band of color exactly as this morning glory, a tall candle flickering inside a hurrican glass on a side table remembering soldiers and their loves, and always second pew from the back ... a very old couple. We know them well. We've been in church together since I had babies in diapers. They look exactly the same ... The babies drive themselves to worship so they don't have to stand around on the front steps hearing I remember when .... The old lady sits still under her gentle fluff of white hair ... still WWII coif minus the shellack, her hair knows it's own way. She has morning glory blue eyes ... strong eyes that belie the blankness within. She sits close to him ... touching at the shoulders and knees, holding hands. She doesn't remember the words to the hymns ... she doesn't remember the friends they joined for lunch every Sunday after service ... she doesn't remember anything ... he holds all her memories for her. His eyes are sad.
Yesterday, my H's momma told me that he locks the car and leaves the AC running to keep her cool while he runs in to the grocery store to pick up essentials. He does all the housework, all the tending ... holding her hand and holding it all together. I hadn't realized we were there yet. Hospital visits have always been to pinch his toe ... . I have to figure out how to help. ... I am so very thankful that I am able.
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