They are ninety years old, no less. They are walking slowly along the ocean, not far from where I am sitting. They stop to listen to the roar of the waves and admire the horizon line.
They don’t talk, but they hold hands like kids in a kindergarten yard. They seem quite fragile against the backdrop of the ocean expanse and giant dark clouds floating across the sky. They are amazing and touching. What do they feel now? Nostalgia for those times when they could enter the water, swim, splash and laugh? Admiration for the beauty of this place, spiced with sadness, because perhaps the last time they came here together? Do they recognize themselves as natural beings, feeling how the ocean spray nourishes and strengthens their weary bodies? Or are they absorbed in metaphysical reflections on the infinite and incomprehensible mystery of life and death?
How often, when I indulge in such sublime discussions, I hear a mocking voice inside me: “You admire their inner life, and they may just be waiting for dinner time in a restaurant!” Yes, may be. But it is not important. They are still beautiful and excite me. Because they love each other and hold hands. Because they are old and fragile and, apparently, will soon leave this world.
Read more:
- “We know it’s love”
Because I imagine myself in their place. Once upon a time, older people were like Martians or platypuses to me: animals of a different biological species, whose lifestyle did not concern me and from which I was far away. But as I got older, I watched them more closely, knowing that one day I would be like them. That is why my inner voice was now trying to cool my ardor: being touched by them, was it not touched by itself?
But no, it seems to me that everything is simpler and more sincere here: I learned to admire old age instead of ignoring or fearing it. Admire old trees, old houses, old things, old people. I admire the story that the past tense tells, I learn the lesson: everything passes, prepare yourself, you too will disappear, but while waiting, dedicate the best that you have to this path that is called life. We sometimes prefer to mentally distance ourselves from this lesson, because at first it bothers us. But as we listen to it, accept it, contemplate it, we understand the wisdom and deep peace contained in it …
This is what at this moment, unaware of it and doing nothing for it, gives me a fragile couple, holding hands.