Last week, I’d gone to the Social Security Administration offices to get some information on my father. Surprisinggly, I was the only person there for awhile. Then, as I was waiting for Bill to come pick me up (we were in St. George with only one car), a teenage girl came in with her mother, followed by an older couple.

The gentleman’s glory days were clearly over; his hair was totally white and he walked carefully with a cane. His wife had fared a little better and she was fussing over him, getting him settled as she gathered papers and dealt with the SS worker. You could tell he’d been a handsome man and for someone who had to be at least 80, he still was! He seemed a bit curmudgeonly, but he tolerated her fussing in silence.

As we all sat in the waiting area, a solid four seats separating each little clutch of humanity, she began to chat with him. “Oh! It’s your birthday Thursday! What do you want to do for your birthday?”

“Go to lunch” he mumbled. His voice was deep and a bit gravelly, reflecting a tired old age I am familiar with myself.

“Go to lunch? That’s all you want to do?” she queried.

“Yeah” he again mumbled.

There was a three second pause….then, “Make love to you.” He uttered.

She didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, what a guy!” she exclaimed and patted his leg affectionately.

The teenage girl looked at her mother, her smile saying “did that old guy really say that?”

I reveled in the sweetness of that moment and we all sat silently for a few minutes until they called her name and she jumped up, finished her business and carefully helped him out.

She was right, what a guy.

(The picture is of someone who looked like him, not the exact guy)