Rajeev Sigamoney [a writer in Los Angeles who believes deeply in art, love & God and isn’t sure anymore if there is a difference between the three] wrote the following short story inspired by a pastor friend Samir Selmanovic. Enjoy!!!
Two men were sitting in a café talking about life. And to be quite specific, their wives. One was a man of middle age and the other a gray haired senior. The middle aged man spoke honestly without hesitation to the other, “I don’t know how you do it? My wife is getting old and there is nothing I can do to stop the hand of time. That beautiful face I remember looking into for hours is slipping away. And all I see in its place is lines and wrinkles. Her beautiful body which I longed to touch with the yearning of youth has been distorted by stretch marks where once only was perfection. So now, every moment I stare at her, I cannot help but get lost in the memory of all she used to be. And in truth, I’m not sure what is left for us.”
The old man remained silent all this while only smiling as one who knew better. Staring into some imaginary space, he finally replied, “I don’t know how you do it? For when I look upon the wrinkles in my wife’s face, I can only see the smiles we have shared together over the years that put each permanently indented demarcation of love there. When I see the stretch marks on her side, my mind is filled with the beauty of our children and all she gave for them, even the greater parts of her perfection. And in all of her so-called flaws, her body has become a map to me of our journey, a map of our history, a map of our love. And because of them, I love her all the more. So now, every moment that I stare at her, I get lost in every inch of who she now is…”
Hearing this, the middle aged man wept. For he now understood that he had not yet truly learned to love.