He stood behind the bar, smiling, always engaging; roaming the corridor that corralled him. Drinks poured perfectly and flowed into the hands of those anxiously waiting. He was infectious, endearing, without having to say a word.
An older man standing nearby pulled the seat out next to me and sat down. He leaned over and in a volume just above a whisper, he said “The best part about thinking your life is horrible is knowing it can only get better from here.”
“Or maybe you just hope it will.” I replied.
The man then turned to look at me and I to him. A beautiful, wrinkled smile took over his face as he leaned even closer. “Life is sweet, my dear. Let it take care of you.” And with that he turned back to facing the bar and ordered another drink from the infectiously happy bartender. I slowly began to turn back to the bar as well, catching my reflection in the heavy mirror suspended behind stacks of empty pint glasses. I repeated the strangers last words to myself, in my head; “Life is sweet, my dear.” The words hung between my ears and pushed against the inside of my lips as if they wished to be released so they could be better recognized. “Let it take care of you.”
At the side of my reflection, the old man spoke to someone beside him. Even from a distance, I could make out the wrinkles time had pressed into his otherwise smooth skin and it dawned on me that this man has seen many moonlit nights snubbed out by sunny mornings. He probably has kids, grandkids… maybe even a wife. He’s most likely felt the satisfaction of a long, laborious day of work that wore down his knees or calloused his hands. He’d been alive to see the rise and fall of countries, governments, and human invention. He’d been hugged, loved and encountered loss. I didn’t really know what this man had been through nor could I begin to conceive of all he had so instead I turned my thoughts to how I planned to incorporate this new token of experience-driven wisdom into my life.
Another smile had begun to creep over me just as the bartender walked by. “And what are you so happy about,” he questioned.
“Falling in love.” I replied.
“Oh, really now? And who is the lucky man?” he asked.
“Life.” I revealed.
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