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I find constant delight in really old, really happy couples.
Recently I was taking a walk along the Blouberg promenade in my lovely Cape Town, when I witnessed a fleeting moment of a stranger’s life that truly touched the corners of my soul. A couple of about 70 years old were walking sllooowwlyyy along; each with a walking stick, greying hair, matching walking shoes, deep and lovely wrinkles and both wearing glasses. They were unhurriedly strolling, admiring the view, leisurely bending to stoke a wandering dog and marveling at “youngsters” on rollerblades.
The old man suddenly leaned over and grabbed the tiny old lady’s bum with a cheeky grin that allowed me to picture him as a mischievous 17 year old. She squealed in utter enchantment, she pretended to be embarrassed and jokingly reprimanded him; but really she just looked so innocent almost and just so very happy with her life, with that day, with him. They then both swapped their walking sticks onto the opposite side so that they could continue walking but able to hold hands.
I looked at them, realised that I had stopped walking and was openly smiling.
I thought to myself in that second and decided, “God yes, I want that”.
via: poemsandpeanutbutter
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