I was going to relate our three week trip east from Iowa down to South Carolina and then to my brother’s Florida house for Thanksgiving. It would have included some of the people we encountered, where we stayed, the fruited plains, brightly colored forests and steeply wooded mountains. Tim had never seen cotton growing let alone white bales stacked along the fields, never crossed the lovely Smokie mountains, seen them hazy in the distance, gazed upon the high peaks and rugged cliffs along the way into North Carolina. But, this will have to wait. The Title “O’ Florida” has been taken up by today.
Tim took me into town this morning to get supplies for a job we have almost completed. It is a basement redo, consisting of surrounding an ancient toilet and shower standing alone in a dark basement, adding lighting, closing off under a stairway, making entryways, endless drywall, mud and paint. It’s looking great, but it’s the kind of job that seems never ending due to the age of the building. I actually yelled at Tim today, something that rarely happens.
Tim announced that he’d like to take me to what I call a “feedbag” restaurant that is popular here; a very well managed buffet. Along the way for some reason we began comparing the various “senior discounts” at the different feedbags, then the other restaurants we enjoy.
We are right on that raged edge of the senior discount; I am fifty-four, Tim is fifty-nine. You don’t really feel old at this age, don’t think you look old either. Suddenly, we looked at each other pausing. For you who have been married for quite awhile, you’d understand this pause. It’s the pause of growing older together, of days gone by. Nothing awful, just nature taking it’s course. Sometimes quite humorous, sometimes a dear and wonderful closeness, sometimes an unwanted bodily function closeness that may be humorous, may be not.
Lunch was nice, I am learning what “a serving” is, which helps in times like these. I left a tip for our waitress and turned over our checkout stub to find we had both been charged the senior discount. I caught Tim’s eye, showing him our ticket, we both turned to look at the cashier; a fellow in his 30’s. I think we can be grateful for the discount in a not quite senior way.