I took Peggy to the eye doctor last week - she needed to have the old eyeballs dilated and as such, would not do real well driving home. So I chauffeured, and was sitting in the waiting room when they arrived.
"They" were a man and a woman well into their 80s. That should be all I can tell you about them, but he chose to have his end of the conversation so loud that people in the next office over were forced to holler to be heard.
We soon learned that they were not married; he had driven her to her appointment. Her marital status remained unclear to us, but we do know that he has a wife who is in a nursing home and that the day before, he had found the t-shirt in which she wishes to be buried. It has a picture of a cow on it.
They went on into detail about the lives of others in their orbs, but all I could focus on is the sadness that must accompany one's choice of burial shroud. Some might find the t-shirt with a picture of a cow to be less than dignified, to which I can only reply that it's her choice. Why would anyone nay-say it?
It's been almost a week and all I can figure is that he wanted to share his impending grief, that he wanted everyone else around to know that his wife's days were numbered low and he was getting ready to send her off.
I am sorry that you are dealing with that, sir. I can hardly imagine life without my Peggy, and I feel for you. God bless you both.