When I'm 64

Because I live in the city and am a fairly high-strung individual, I tend to notice all of the annoying things that surround me - the faults of my fellow citizens rather than their virtues. My sister mentioned that I don’t tend to point out very positive things. Of course, to that I replied: what do sisters know? However, she happened to mention that today on the very day I saw something that made me stop, think and smile. Since I witnessed this occurrence on the TTC, I felt that was significant enough to warrant my attention.

I was waiting to board the streetcar at its terminus and a group of us were huddled outside the back doors waiting for the passengers to get off before we could embark. I could see an older couple making their slow progress to the back doors and, since I had nothing else to do while I waited, I watched them as they descended. The man came down first and appeared incredibly frail. The right side of his face was scarred and his eye was sealed shut. It looked as though someone had taken sand paper to his skin and rubbed it raw. He was bundled into his thick winter coat but even with the bulk of his coat, he was still a very slight man. As he stepped off the last step of the car, he turned to offer his wife his hand, sheltering her from the eager passengers who were waiting to get on the car. He guided her down the steps and the couple slowly walked away hand in hand.

I realize that may initially seem a fairly depressing sight. But what I thought as I saw them was that theirs was a partnership that was surviving illness, frailty and the mad scramble of the TTC. My first reaction was to cringe at the horrible scarring of his face and to feel embarrassed by his frailty. His weakness was what I initially noticed. But when he turned to offer his hand and support to his wife, he stopped looking weak as much as lucky. Despite the obvious challenges he faced, he wasn’t facing them alone and despite those challenges, he still had something to offer his partner.

Of course, they could not be married at all. They may very well be an older couple making their way to some low cost motel to conduct an illicit affair, stepping out on the spouses who’ve stood by them their whole lives. Or they could be siblings who, once out of the danger of patches of ice and rush hour commuters, would quickly stop supporting each other and resume the bickering that has defined their relationship for their entire lives. The loving couple I saw may have been a creation of my imagination on a Friday morning. But I don’t think so. The youthful arrogance of pitying the old often forgets that those we pity have already lived what we are going through. Once upon a time, the objects of my notice had been young and spry and had probably had two eyes with which to see the world. But now, at more than 40 years my seniors, these two still had each other. Not everyone gets that in life. Not everyone is that lucky.