Driving down a deserted Indiana road, I saw a "fresh lemonade" sign and pulled over. I had expected a filling station or small store, but to my surprise, it was a house. An old man sat on the porch. I got out of my car; nobody else was around. He poured me some lemonade and offered me a seat. It was so peaceful; nothing but cornfields, sky and sun in view.
We talked about the weather and my trip. He asked if I had family. I explained that I had just gotten married and hoped to have children someday. He seemed pleased that family still mattered to some folks.
Then he told me his story. I share it because it is one I cannot forget.
"There's something special about families. A wife, children, a home of your own. The peace of mind that comes with doing the right thing. I remember being your age." He said.
“I didn't think I'd have a chance at marriage. I didn't have the greatest family. But I persevered. Both parents loved me tremendously, and now I realize their intentions for me were good. But it was tough. Many nights I remember lying in bed, thinking, I'm not going to risk having divorce happen to me. A wife? A family? Why? I was convinced I would never risk exposing my kids to divorce.”
"As a teenager, I experienced new emotions. I didn't believe in love, though. I thought it was only infatuation. I had this friend. In eighth grade she had a crush on me. We were afraid to let each other know how we felt, so we just talked. She became my best friend. All through high school we were like peas and carrots." He grinned.
"She had problems in her family, too. I tried to help her out. I did my best to take care of her. She was smart, and beautiful, too. Other young fellas wanted her to be theirs. And since this is between you and me," he winked,
"I'll tell you I wanted her to be mine, too.”
"We tried going out once but things blew up and we didn't talk for nine months. Then one day in class I got up the nerve to write her a note. She wrote back and things slowly picked up again. Then she went to college."
The old man poured us more lemonade.
"She went to school in Minnesota where her father lived." He reminisced.
"I wanted to play baseball. I got turned down from school after school and finally was accepted by a small school, also in Minnesota! It was so ironic. When I told her, she cried.”
"We began dating. I remember kissing her for the first time in my room. My heart beat very fast. I was afraid of rejection. But our relationship grew.”
“After college, I did get to play baseball. Then, I married that sweet girl of mine. I never would have believed I'd be walking down the aisle."
"Did you have children?" I asked.
"Four of them!" He smiled.
"Put them through school, taught them the best way to live as far as we could tell. Now they're all grown with kids of their own. It made me proud to see them holding their babies. I knew then that life was worthwhile.”
"When the kids left the house, my wife and I would go on trips together, holding hands like we were young again. That's the beauty of it, you see. My love for her continued to grow as the years rolled on, Sure we fought, but love prevailed.”
"I don't know how to explain the love I felt towards my wife." He said, shaking his head.
"It never quit on us. It never died. It just got stronger. There've been lots of mistakes in my life, but I never regretted marrying her.”
"Lord knows how tough life can be." He said, looking into my eyes.
"I may be too old to understand how the world works today, but when I look back, I'm certain of this - nothing in this world is more powerful than love. Not money, greed, hate or passion. Words cannot describe it. Poets and writers try. They can't, because it is different for each of us. I love my wife so much, you see. I'll be long gone in the grave with her by my side, and that love will still be burning bright."
He looked at my empty glass.
"I've kept you much longer than you had probably liked." He apologized.
"I hope you enjoyed your lemonade. As you go, remember - love your wife and kids with everything you've got, everyday of your life. Because you never know when it may end."
I felt the power of his words as I walked to my car. It struck me that the old man, who I assumed must have lost his wife years ago, still loved her with a passion. I was filled with sadness as I thought about how lonely he must be with only his lemonade and an occasional guest.
As I set out on the road again, I couldn't get the man out of my mind. Suddenly, I realized I hadn't paid him for the lemonade and so I turned the car around and drove back. As I approached the house, I saw a car in the driveway. I was surprised; someone else had stopped by.
I walked over to the porch. The man was nowhere to be found. I bent to put the money on his chair and happened to glance in the window. And there was the old man, in the middle of the living room, slow dancing with his wife!
I shook my head as I finally understood. He hadn't lost her after all. She had only been gone for the afternoon.
It's been years since that incident, yet I still think of that man and his wife.
I hope to live the kind of life they lived and to pass our love on to my kids and grandchildren as they did. And, I hope to be a grandfather who can slow dance with his wife, knowing that indeed, there is no greater blessing than love.
By Justin R. Haskin
