All In How You See It

All In How You See It--(C) Steven G. O'Dell Nov. 2005

The old woman sat on the park bench pretending not to notice that her husband was doing it again. It happened every time they went to the park. It happened when they walked the street as they did each day at this time. It was happening again--now--and the old woman had finally lost her tolerance for it. She had never said anything as she saw him looking at these young women in the park or on the street, but had held her tongue as long as she could. She would say nothing again today, but her silence was no indication of concession on her part. No, far from it. Today she would hold her peace and do what she had imagined for so long. She would finally put an end to his wandering eye forever. She only had to wait for the right opportunity, but she was confident it would soon come. Perhaps something in his evening cocoa or a mix-up in his medications. No matter how, she thought, the time had come and she would act upon it. There were limits to what a woman ought to tolerate and she had indeed reached her limit.

The old man sat quietly on the park bench beside his wife. Occasionally he would watch the young women there with their boyfriends or their husbands. He hurt each time he thought of how badly he and his wife had wanted children of their own, but had not been able to do so. Reflecting now that his wife had especially wanted a daughter, the old man gazed silently at the young lady passing before him and wondered to himself--if they had been blessed with a daughter of their own, how old would she be by now? What would she look like? Would she already have children of her own, making him a grandfather? Dismissing these thoughts from his mind, he sighed in a barely audible manner and turned to his wife and smiled. He had at least been blessed with the most beautiful and wonderful woman in the world. He had enjoyed many years together with her, despite having no children, and he hoped to have many more in loving her. He was indeed a happy man and could complain very little about the hand that God had dealt him.