The Conversation

Dressed in a gray suit, white shirt, black shoes and not tie he cut a rather dapper figure. He was probably eighty years old but he could have passed for sixty as he walked down the street.

He sat speaking to her, comfortable in his folding chair with an umbrella to keep most of the afternoon sun from his parchment like skin.

"Dora retired last week from the bank. They gave her a luncheon at one of those fancy resteraunts. She had prime rib and champagne. All of her kids were there and the Chairman of the Board even sent along a letter with a plaque."

"Little David will be starting kindergarten in the fall. He was so cute. On the final day of preschool they had a little graduation ceremony. When it was over he jumped into my lap. Talking a mile a minute. Did you see me grandpa. I graduated. Than for no reason at all he began crying. When I asked him what was wrong he said he didn't want to graduate, he wanted to stay at preschool with all of his friends."

"Harriet Trotter passed last week. She was eighty-seven. She had not been the same since Gregory passed last year."

"I saw the heart doctor today. He said that my ticker is in great shape and that barring accidents I might see one hundred."

And on he went. Discussing with her the weather, the Dodger's, world events and family gossip.

After an hour or so he arose from his seat and with some effort knelt on the grass. He cleaned away the dried grass and a few weeds that were growing near her gravestone. He placed a bouquet of yellow roses in some water and left them there for her.

He folded his chair and his umbrella and blew a final kiss toward his young bride. Walking slowly he made his way to his car.

If anyone had asked he would have smiled and said: "Genie and I were married for fifty years. The last two she was no longer able to speak because of the Alzheimer's that was eating away her brain. I guess I spent so many years talking to her I am just not comfortable enough to have much of a conversation with anyone else.