A Secret.

I'll let you in on a secret of mine.

There's a road leading to my parent's house in Reynoldsburg. I drive it often, almost daily, going to and from point A to B. After my parents decided to downsize their house in Pickerington after I left for college, we moved to the one in Reynoldsburg. There's a house down on this road, a small ranch style, white, petite yet homey. I noticed this house one morning coming back from church after moving and from then on, every Sunday I looked into this house to view a very similar site: An old man sitting in his comforter chair, sometimes reclined, sometimes not. Most times he would be reading the Sunday newspaper or watching TV. I very rarely saw his wife, but she was there.

This very scene became regular to me and it wasn't long before I began looking into this front-windowed house every time I passed it while home visiting from school. Now, after living back home again, I pass this house very often. It's a form of comfort for some reason. I look for the old man and his wife, wondering what they're doing, expecting to see him sitting in his recliner.

Well, one day during this past fall I passed the house running some errands and noticed a big, red flashing ambulance truck sitting in the drive.

My heart shattered.

And what more than to see the old man I so cherished being wheeled out to the ambulance on a stretcher, strapped in and oxygen mask over his face.

I slowed my car down and couldn't believe what I saw. I was almost in tears seeing this right in front of me. I honestly couldn't believe it.

"Was he going to make it? What happened? Will he be okay?? Please don't die. Dear God, don't let this man die. What would become of his wife if he passed? Would she be okay without him? I don't want her to be alone yet, I don't want him to suffer. Please God, let everything be okay..."

-----

I looked to the house when passing it the following days only to see the curtains closed and no cars in the driveway. Turns out a few days later, he's okay from what I can tell. He's laying down in the recliner, oxygen mask attached to his face like the life keeping him going. His wife is bent over him, helping him with something, maybe making sure he's comfortable.

A sigh of relief.

I still look to the house every time I pass. I still see a very similar scene but he's always in the chair now. And, for some reason, it still somewhat breaks my heart seeing this. What is their life like together? I constantly wonder if he's happy...if she's happy...if he's healthy. It brings my memory back to the last several months of my grandfather's life. My grandma was his surviving stone. She helped, shouldered, labored and loved her husband until the day he passed. She devoted her life to him. Has this elder woman done the same for her husband she so cares for? It's dedication...it's sacrifice...it's love. And it amazes me to know such a bond is possible between two people. We do it without reason because we care, because we love and want this person to be okay. Maybe I feel connected to this couple because they remind me so much of my grandparents. The human heart can bare so much for so many, especially the one we're most devoted to.

I care about this couple and this elder man. I hope he's happy. I hope their life together has been memorable and more than satisfying. I'll be heartbroken the day I look into their window and realize he's no longer there. Life can be so fulfilling yet heart wrenching from simple situations like this. The human emotion constantly playing and tugging at our heart strings...