An Extrordinary Decision

The following was written in a coffee shop on a COLD afternoon in late December.  Heather of the Extraordinary Ordinary does this, she just listens and writes.  I cannot listen, my ears have enough trouble with the sounds intended for me, so I watched and wrote and imagined their words.

Today marks a remarkable day for an extraordinary lady.  One year sober.  So as a tribute to her incredible courage I write in the style that she does so very well.  No editing, just what I see and feel in the moment.

The sun is streaming in and the dust motes dance.  The old man smiles at the lady, with whom he is close.  You can see someone cares for him, his hair is neatly cut, his jacket is new and warm, not a brand picked up in shops frequented by old men.  As they go to leave he takes the tray, a task his frame is not suited for anymore, she smiles and carries it for him.  Just as she smiled when he told her a story she had probably heard before. A gentle smile, just for him. 

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She is jangling her keys, waiting, pacing, another stop in a busy day.  Her shadow is longer than her and quieter, less frenzied as the keys gently bob up and down in the sun.  I see me as she flips through the magazine, unable to keep from doing something, anything as the waiting passes.  There is just not enough time to just be.

The contrast is almost startling, a life almost done, not hurried, no more tasks that MUST BE DONE right now.  RIGHT NOW.  She flies on with her day, he meanders, she has many waiting on her and what she can do for them, he is now reliant on the ones he once served.

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She stomps in, a grin lighting her face as she spies the one who waits.  They smile, jackets removed, coffees compared, all the while bathed in the late afternoon sun.

The dust motes dance.