The old man climbed out of bed carefully because he didn't want to awaken his wife. This was a special day for them; it was their 75th anniversary and he wanted to surprise her. She usually prepared breakfast but he'd decided to fix her breakfast in bed on this fine, sunny summer morning – nothing very fancy, just a small gesture to show her how much he still loved her after all these years being together. He quietly shuffled down the hall in his slippers to the bathroom where he took off his pyjamas and put on his clothes, which consisted of a clean shirt and pants that his wife had pressed for him; she liked it when he was all cleaned up and dressed nicely. He had shaved the night before and bathed, so all he had to do was splash a little warm water on his wrinkly old face and comb his disheveled hair, which was very thin and as white as snow. He was 99 years old, still quite spry with a mind as sharp as a samarai sword. As he looked in the mirror, he tried imagining what he looked like in his younger years when his wife thought he was the most handsome man in the world but he couldn't; the young man he'd once been was lost or hidden beneath the deep folds, sharp lines, crinkly creases and sagging jowls; all his flesh heading south on a one way trip to his own personal hole in the ground. But instead of feeling depressed about his aging circumstance, he was content with his aged old body and his life; not everyone gets to marry the woman they love, the woman of their dreams like he did. Right from the very moment he laid eyes on her; he knew she was the one; he felt very fortunate to have grown old with this very special woman; his wife and his best friend.
Just before neatly placing the mugs, small plates and necessary silverware on a serving tray, he had filled the coffee pot with water and was waiting for it to start percolating; the rich aroma of coffee already filling the kitchen with a delicious aroma. He was humming to himself; an old song that they both really enjoyed when they were very young; she was only 17 at the time. A tear glistened at the corner of his eye as he visualized her so many years ago; the way her smile could brighten up a gloomy room.
The old man sat down in a chair by the large glass patio doors and looked out at their small acreage, which consisted of a garden and a tiny orchard. They were both avid gardeners and had a way with plants; even the scrawniest, most unlikely unhealthy plants they brought home from the nursery flourished under their care. In a way, many of the plants growing in the backyard were like the children they never had; they were carefully tended to and lovingly nourished. For some reason his wife was unable to have children and at first it was a bit of a blow since they both wanted to have a family but the thought of that as the years went by, got pushed further and further back.
To be continued...
The first person who correctly answers the story's ending will win a signed copy of the story by the author. Send your answer to lensherman@hotmail.com
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