Mile High Smile

We're finally in our last hour of the flight to San Francisco, somewhere over Montana. The flight has been nothing but typical: slight turbulence now and then; the incessant bing of the fasten-seat-belt light; the odd, muffled noises throughout the plane that always make me feel like we're under water. Nothing but ordinary. I happen to pause for a moment in my book. I've reached the end of a chapter and always feel the need to conduct a mini celebration in my head. During said celebrating, I look up at the people passing by my aisle seat as they make their way to the bathroom. Among the wanderers is an elderly woman, probably 73 or 74, who looks straight ahead as she walks towards me. A smile warms her face and I realize that it's for a man slowly passing my seat. Obviously a few years her senior, her husband gingerly moves towards her and, as they meet, they hug. I can't see the man's face but the woman's smile seems to spread further if possible. The action may be habitual for both of them, but the utter happiness written on her face makes it seem as if it's their first embrace. They part in a blink of the eye; I'm sure no one else even noticed their hug. I certainly do and quickly whip out my computer to begin typing. In a flash I realize that a love like theirs is what I want in life. I want someone to look at me fifty years from now the way she just looked at her husband, unable to imagine spending her life with anyone but that person. It may seem like a lot to deduce from one simple action... then again, it's amazing how much one smile can say.