Yesterday I felt love watching an elderly gentleman well into his 80s. He struggled physically. Clearing his plate, he brought it back to the market's counter. He returned to the table ever so slowly to clear his wife's plate. With care and a hunched back he pulled out her chair. She stood. He gracefully allowed her to walk ahead - they knew this dance well. His tanned wrinkled hand finished with a buttoned sleeve. It found its home and rested gently on her lower back as they left. I watched his wedding ring until they were in the doorway ...
I remembered the Webers, my pre-Katrina neighbors. Like I described in NAKED, I couldn't help but watch this couple as well. Their love, their touch, their dance all pulled me in. Some southern gentlemen are still gentle men.