Eighty Years

http://polaroid41.com/eighty-years/

Thursday - October 17th, 2019 - 6:17pm.

Train delays, confusion and a platform full of people and luggage at the station in Nimes. I finally board the train and sit on one of the folding seats with my rolling suitcase between my knees. I notice an old man shuffling around with his luggage, he lurches a little as the train starts up. I fold the seat down next to me with my hand and say, “There’s a seat here, sir!” He smiles at me and then gestures to the woman sitting across the aisle and says with pride, “Oh, this here is my wife!” They fuss around with their bags some more and make a place for him to sit across from her. The ride between Nimes and Avignon is short and they’re already negotiating who is going to carry which of their three bags when they get off at Avignon. She’s giving instructions, he’s smiling good-naturedly and saying, “You always start out with this bag and then you always want to switch and have me carry it by the end!” They laugh and he looks over at me and says, “We’ve been traveling together for eighty years!” I’m surprised because they don’t look old enough for that… she swats at him lovingly and says, “No! Sixty-five! Sixty-five!” “Ahh, that’s right,” he beams. “Sixty-five years. It was love at first sight at fifteen. Love at first sight!”

Ahh, so they’re 80 years old and have been together 65 years. That makes more sense. He gives himself away with his mistake though: instead of saying they’ve been together 65 years he said they’ve been together for eighty…he feels like they’ve been together for his entire life.

They continue to negotiate their bags, she starts to say something and he finishes her sentence for her. At this they laugh and look over at me and chime in one after the other, “Sixty five years! We know what the other one is thinking even before they think it!” he says proudly. “Yes,” she agrees happily, “we know just what the other one is thinking. Sometimes we don’t agree of course! But that’s to be expected.”

They inform me that since this morning they’ve made their way from La Rochelle to Bordeaux, Bordeaux to Nimes, and now Nimes to Avignon...they’re 80 years old and after a long day of train travel, they’re all smiles. They seem happy, in love. Avignon is their last stop of the day and their daughter is coming to pick them up. A daughter who I imagine might be approaching 60, whose own children might already be grown…

The train pulls into the station and I feel wistful that my time in their company has already come to an end. I step off the train with them and feel like lingering, but I spot my friend waiting at the other end of the platform. I take a moment to tuck them away in my heart, I pick up the pace and walk towards my night.

http://polaroid41.com/eighty-years/