Love, Honor, and Cherish

I love the fact that Alan and I are both "early arrivers" when it comes to airports and flying.  We're incredibly diligent about leaving extra time for long lines at check-in and security, "just in case." It's come in handy more than once, and I can honestly say we've never had to run to our gate to catch a flight, because we've always alloted for the extra time.

But, when things are running smoothly at the airport, we have a lot of extra waiting time.  Such was the case early last Saturday morning when we sat in the Las Vegas Airport, an hour ahead of schedule, waiting for our flight home.  We both tried to busy ourselves with our ipods and reading material.  But soon, the best entertainment walked up and sat down in the two seats across from us.  The hour flew by.

They were an older couple, probably in their mid sixties.  He sported a full head of white hair with matching goatee and carried a metal cane with jingling charms hanging from the handle (I couldn't see exactly what shape they resembled,  but I assumed they were for luck on his Vegas trip!).  He wore a black, untucked Harley Davidson t-shirt over a pair of wrinkled black pants.

Her strawberry-blonde dyed hair was clipped in a short pixie style.  Behind her thick, large glasses her make-up was expertly applied.  Her crisp, white, button-down blouse was neatly tucked into her elastic-waist jeans, and over it she wore a light denim jacket spotted with cute, multi-colored embroidered flowers.  Her jewelry included dangly, sparkly earrings and two gold chain necklaces.

But the couple's appearance was not what drew my attention.  There was something else that I noticed that made it impossible for me to look away:  She never stopped MOVING!!  EVER!! As soon as she sat down, she immediately popped back up, kneeling in front of her suitcase, opening zippers, rummaging around for her compact, then zipping back up again.

Then it was her large purse.  She zipped open a compartment, pulled out a roll of mints, popped one in her mouth, offered one to her husband (he declined), then replaced them back into her purse.  Then, back to the suitcase and "ZIP," another compartment produced two boarding passes.  She handed one to her husband and tucked the other in the outside pocket of her purse.

She left to get a drink after asking her companion if he wanted anything (he did not), returned, then proceeded to pour the contents of her paper cup into that of her own plastic sip container (obtained from her suitcase) that read "Grandma" in big letters on it's side.  She "ZIPPED" again and produced her cell phone, called her daughter and informed her of their estimated arrival time, then "ZIPPED" once more to return the phone and retrieve another mint.  Just watching her, I became completely exhausted!!

As all of this drink-transferring, mint-popping, and boarding-pass-producing was executed, there sat her husband, completely still.  In fact, he had only one gear -- PARK. While his wife zipped and fussed, this man sat with his cane in his lap, his arm lazily draped over the back of her chair, eyes closed.  When his wife would pause for a few brief seconds, he'd reach over and pat her back or squeeze her shoulder, all with his eyes still closed.  She'd lean in for a second, then pop back up again to attend to more zippering business.

Neither one was annoying the other, mind you.  In fact, they seemed perfectly content in each other's company.  They had clearly just spent an enjoyable vacation together and were now about to begin their journey home.  Together.  Despite their obvious differences, they appeared to be a perfect couple.  I couldn't stop looking at them.

I'm always so fascinated when I see an older pair like these two, because I so look forward to growing old with Alan.  He's a wonderful companion and I enjoy his company over anyone else's.  I've always said that I can't wait until we're both retired someday, rocking on the front porch, traveling together, and taking care of one another.  When I got my cancer diagnosis, one of the first things that popped into my head was that I might not get to enjoy those "golden years" with Alan. I was so relieved and thrilled when I learned that, in fact, I probably CAN.

But as I sat staring at my new friends at that airport gate, it occurred to me that those years are really already here.  Like that flighty woman with her crazy zippers, Alan takes care of me, too.

When I fall asleep on the plane and the flight attendant comes by with her drink cart, he gently puts down my tray table, picks out the exact crackers he knows I like from her basket and orders me a Diet Coke. He does this because he knows how much I need the sleep, but really hate to miss flight snack time! He never, ever complains when I (always!) over-pack, and instead insists on helping me remove my GINORMOUS suitcase off the baggage claim belt and onto the parking garage bus.

He makes coffee for me every morning, and on especially cold days he warms the cup beforehand with hot water, so the coffee won't cool too quickly once it hits the mug.  He takes our cockatiel, Vegas, out of her cage when she is squawking for him.  Then he gently places her on his shoulder while he works in his office.  He doesn't particularly love Vegas, but he knows that I do.   And he loves me, so onto his shoulder she goes.

He rearranges his busy work schedule so that he can attend every CT scan, PET scan, and oncologist appointment with me.  He brings a notepad with him to record everything the doctors say and asks important questions of which I never would've thought.

I've decided that the "growing old together" commences right on your wedding day. All of your life experiences together; your vacations, illnesses, and proxy Diet Coke-ordering begin the second after you say, "I do."   It's up to us to decide how we're going to rise to the occasion.  I love how completely Alan takes care of me, and I'm so honored to get to be the one to do the same for him.

As I sat pondering all of this in the Las Vegas airport that morning, I leaned over and rested my head on Alan's shoulder while he read his book.  Without looking up, his hand instinctively reached-up and began stroking my hair as he planted a kiss on the top of my head.  I glanced over at that sweet couple in front of me.   If that old, sloppy, white-goateed man had opened his eyes just once, I would've caught his attention and whispered to him, "Aren't we lucky?"

How about you?  How do you take care of your spouse/companion?  What sweet thing do they do for you?  I'd really love to know...

Thanks for Reading!