Gray

There’s an elderly man sitting at the end of my row on the plane. And an elderly woman, likely his wife, came by just now for a while and stood by him in the aisle. “You almost halfway done with that book?” he asked her. She nodded. He continued to sit with his arms crossed, she continued to stand with her hand resting on the back of his seat. “They don’t show movies on the plane anymore,” he said. She replied in a few words. He sat and she stood for a while longer. “How much should we turn the clock forward?” she asked. “Two hours, they said. We’ll be there by one.” More sitting, more standing. They exchanged a few more sentences. “Well, I’ll see you later,” she said. “OK,” he replied. She turned and walked back down the aisle. All this love and romance and turmoil…all to have someone stand by you on the plane when your hair is gray. It’s well worth it I think.