As we glided from booth to booth, we tried to keep open minds, wanting to appreciate each piece we saw.
I wasn't doing a very good job.
We came upon one booth which was filled with intricate drawings done completely in pencil.
There were numerous drawings that were filled with such detail that it seemed to require hours almost just to take it all in.
As Blake and I stood in front of one drawing, I saw one thing:
An ancient hand.
It was disturbingly old with wrinkles and sun spots.
"Gross."
Blake saw something different:
A worn band.
Wrapped around the thin finger between the middle and end.
The scuffs and etchings in the metal showcased years of wear.
Years of devotion and love.
My sister and I were sitting in a restaurant last week. Enjoying a quiet, late lunch.
There weren't a lot of people in the restaurant.
A little ways into our meal, an older couple entered the restaurant.
He was wearing a suit.
She was wearing a dress.
As the host led the couple to a table near our own, the wife excused herself to the restroom.
As she disappeared around the corner, the husband stood by his chair.
Waiting for her return.
He didn't take his seat until she returned.
Such chivalry.
Such devotion.
Such love.
I hope that Blake and I have that opportunity to have that kind of love.
A vintage love.
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