She cried the wimper of a willow tree with tears streaking all over her skin, ...
I had a granny directly in my lane on the fast Houston loop this AM. She, was driving along with her husband sitting on the passager side in their NEW shiny bright 2005 vehicle. Speed limit was around umm...65, and Granny wasn't about to weaken those new shiny wheels and rims, so she took me on a 45 mile drive at her convenient speed of 35 all the way. The lanes, 5 coming, 5 going, commuter and bus lanes were loaded, so alas, driving a big E-150 HUGE van, it was impossible for me to merge to another lane.
It was a very good morning. I had to chuckle as EVERY car that was able to merge to the lane closest, or hit the side to pass on the right of me gave me a bird!
Was a glorious morning! My exit was coming up in a few more ramps. I was thinking about how Mr. and Mrs. Granny could have been enjoying the scenery along the way.
Well, my turn was coming to veer to the right lane off the expressway, and Mr. and Mrs. Granny took the same right turn. OYE VAY! A chuckling gaggled out of my throat. I had taken notice they were blinkering to turning right, and I was going over the over pass, turning left. We both stopped at the same stop sign, and I gave her a wave. We are both at the stop sign at this time, and she motioned me to roll down my window. As I did so, she ask me where "a particular" hospital was, because seated behind her was her deceased husband. She had no rush. Tearing rolling down her face, (she must of been in her late 80's) she told me later at the hospital (I volunteered to have her follow me) that she had been married over 60 years. And she didn't want to let him go. I sat with her for four more hours, until the hospital finished their paperwork, and the furneral taker had removed Mr. Granny's body to the morgue. She cried the wimper of a willow tree with tears streaking all over her skin, following the creases of her age lines. She told me between her tears all the wonderful experiences she had with her husband. She also told me that "now" she would be all alone in this world, with no biological relatives now alive - but she didn't seem all that sad about it. I asked her why. She said, "We had no children, just 45 years of children foster caring. We spent our waking time with those children on our farm." Her last words were, "memories", "Oh, I will walk the road with the memories of my husband and our 163 foster children, and that will carry me forth until I join Julius someday." She kissed my cheek, squeezed my hand, patted my cheek, and told me that "today" was going to be a special day in her heart."
I never learned so much emotion and love in four hours.
~Werdas'
I'm old. 
But wisdom doesn't always come with age!
