Two Older Couples Walking on the Beach

               Two Older Couples Walking On The Beach

Two older couples walking on the beach, 

 separated by gender and 25 feet.

How about that Eagles game last night?

   How are your kids and grandkids?

Everything OK financially?

   Everything OK with your relationship?

Any thoughts on where we should eat tonight?

   Any thoughts on finding that spark again?

Can you believe that political ad we saw last night?

   Can you believe that men think they can legislate pregnancy?

Do you miss working sometimes?

   Do you wish he was still working at times?

We went to another funeral last week.

   We went to another funeral last week.

Where did the time go? Are kids really different than when we were young? Do you think about moving to a smaller place? Do you worry about aging ungracefully? About being alive but not living?

Do you worry that she will be OK when you're not there?

   Do you worry about being lonely when he is not here?

Can you imagine having not have asked her to marry you?

   Can you imagine not having said yes?

Two older couples walking on the beach,

   separated by gender and 25 feet.

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This year, as I sat in the sun listening to the gentle crashing of the waves onto the shore, I noticed two older couples walking past, men a bit ahead of the women. Without thinking too hard, I tried to get into their heads to discern the difference in their conversational topics, and to wonder how those discussions mirrored those I have had during similar walks. The above is the result of those musings.

Two years ago, I wrote the poem below while on vacation with Nora at Dewey Beach, Delaware, a place where we have been visiting, first with the kids, and now just us, for 25 years. The very first time we went, we decided on the spur of the moment to spend a long weekend at the beach. We had no reservations, just the naive thought that we would find a hotel, and some quality time with the ocean and each other.  We did, in fact, find a place after only the second attempt, and have returned there, most years, ever since.

Two Old People Walking on the Beach

When I was younger, I would see two old people

walking on the beach.

Sometimes holding hands, sometimes holding sandals.

What are they thinking?  What could they talk about?

Passions burnt out?  Memories of bygone days?

Thoughts of friends no longer alive?

Thoughts of family no longer in touch?

Did they wish they looked as they did in the beginning?

Wonder where the time went, and how much longer

they might have together?

Two old people walking on the beach.

One is me, one my wife.

Sometimes we hold hands, sometimes sandals.

The view is magnificent today, she remarks,

and the sandpipers so cute.

Could we live here some day or would we get used to it,

take it for granted, stop seeing its beauty.

I like the pace, or lack thereof.  Perhaps we should come

more often.

I look in her eyes, see the beautiful girl I married, 

the wonderful woman still beside me.

Two old people walking on the beach.