The Last Hand You Hold

Only eighteen more minutes.

That’s got to be long enough to get to the shops, they better not shut on me.  Why can’t this traffic go faster? 

Cars speed past until they don’t, red break lights gently illuminate the busy intersection.  Don’t you love peak hour driving? 

And now we’re waiting, all but helpless to obey the traffic light’s command.  Still red.  Come on, we want green.  Spotify playing in the background.  I keep flicking through to find a better song. 

Green – Go!  That’s what we’re waiting for, only you can’t turn left until all the pedestrians finish waddling across the road.  Come on, could you walk any slow. Wait. That’s adorable. 

She’s old, I don’t know how old.  Bent, slow and yet still walking.  Not just walking, but being lead by a true gentleman.  Almost as hunched and just as old as his lady, with their hands tightly clasped he leads on.  He’s forgotten his armour, but I can tell – he’s her knight. 

My grandparents were the same.  One love their whole life, how did they do it?  Even when my Nana stopped knowing me, or where she was, she always knew she had him. 

My Grandpa was a good man, a noble man of few words but he always looked after her.  And now that he’s passed on, my dad’s taken his place. 

So how do you find that hand?  The only hand that fits into yours, the one you take and promise never to let go.  Does it exist, is it out there?  Help me find her, I promise to protect her.  I want to be a nobleman. 

Leave a Reply

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: