The Golden Age

Went to Sainsbury's in the afternoon for some shopping. The usual. When I was at the checkout counter I noticed an elderly couple behind me with a cartful of shopping items. I smiled as I watched them unload their shopping onto the counter, but I was stopped short by the wife, who was reprimanding her husband for not doing it properly (you know...dry foodstuff together, frozen items in one lot, etc etc..). She kept going on and on and even scolded him when the french loaf fell on the floor. During the whole ordeal, the husband just kept quiet, not a cross word escaped his lips.

I fought the urge to come to his defence. There he was, helping with the shopping, unloading the cart (how many men actually do that?), only to be nagged at. I actually felt like telling her to be nicer to her husband.

Do excuse me for my impertinent intentions. I have a soft spot for kind elderly men (not in the twisted way, of course).

My favourite type of patient is the elderly. I've met quite a few of the elderly men, who mischievously winked at me during ward rounds, and shared their stories from the 'good old days'. I adore the ladies, some of them are lovely to the core. Their eyes always light up when they see you come for a chat, always insisting that you visit them when they've been discharged.

That's how I plan to be when I'm old. Mild tempered, very nice to everyone, never complaining about anything. And whoever I grow old with, I hope that I'll never nag him just because he doesn't place the grocery items in groups.

As I was walking back from Sainsbury's, I saw another elderly couple, the husband with a walking stick in one hand and holding his wife in the other.

Life is beautiful after all...