The Old man and his Wife in a Wedding

QUEENS, N.Y. - May 31, 2016 - PRLog -- From where they sat, Dorothy and the woman next to her turned like the rest of the guests to assess the newlyweds as they entered the banquet hall. It was another false start; only a parade of the flower girl and her male counterpart.

Dorothy repositioned her back against the chair. With her right hand, she reached out for a glass jug of water at the center of the table in front.

Before she could complete the task, however, the woman next to her held her left wrist, as only an older Igbo woman would do to a younger one.

'My name is Agnes,' said the older woman, 'and this is my husband.' She gestured with her face to the man on her left. Dorothy took a close look and saw in Agnes a picture of a woman who carried a heavy matrimonial load. She had no makeup. Nothing could mask her anguish.

The man knew a more detailed introduction was coming, and he waited. Between his legs was a single point brown cane with a curved end. Periodically he ran both palms along the smooth stem of the cane. Orange light from the high chandeliers shone on his small, bushy eyebrows and cashew-colored hair.

'He is Professor Mezue,' Agnes continued. 'You know him, don't you?'

'Sorry, but I haven't met him,' Dorothy responded.

Disappointed, the older woman loosened her affectionate grip to free the younger woman.

Professor Mezue was used to his wife trying to revive his life in the minds of friends and strangers.

Old Age as Badge of Honor

Peace and not recognition mattered more to him now. In his heyday and even in the present circumstances, he argued that a man should wear old age as a badge of honor. Peace is plentiful in silence. He bent his neck and rested his left cheek on the curved end of the brown cane.

Each time visitors came in, his manly voice rose to engage them; two sparkling eyes searched their conscience, followed by a scooping palm which enveloped them in handshakes. However, as soon as the well-wisher left, the Professor sought refuge in his chair, leaning on his cane.

The man with a flute

The flute is a musical instrument not played for just anybody by everybody. In Igboland, talented flute players play only for accomplished individuals. People always turn at the sound a flute. The man wielding the flute now was tall, though not a giant.

'Papa I salute you, we all bow to you. You are one person who does better than sixty arms, you are the moon that shines for all-------,' the man holding the flute sang to the Professor.

While the tall man sang the old one nodded with approval; but soon after he quickly returned to resting his cheek on the top of his brown stick.

Visitors only last as long as the wedding ceremony. His cane had been there for him for years, reliable to the end.

Jollof Rice

The smell of jollof rice and goat meat separated the Professor from his cane. Agnes retrieved a bib from her mud-red purse and hung it round his neck. He ate quickly, even though he did not look hungry. When he had finished, he leaned forward, rested his left cheek on the curved end of the brown cane and closed his eyes.

In her village, Dorothy knew old men and women who used canes; for walking, for whacking menacing greedy chickens and unruly children. Her maternal grandparents were garrulous and sometimes feisty towards each other.

The Professor and his wife seemed different. They hardly spoke to each other even though, as Dorothy suspected, they had a deluge of thoughts swirling in their minds.

Agnes was thinking of the past.Back in those days, his friends adored him because of his intellect. Now people cherished him because of his frailty.

She had married him, believing that because he was much older than her, he would protect and take care of her. She hadn't counted on the ravages time would bring. Who does, when love is strong?

Reminiscing about the good old days managed to rip away her remorse, and she turned to brush off with her fingers imaginary dust from the old man's right shoulder.

The Professor thanked Agnes with more silence, his mind switching back and forth from a life gone by to life almost gone. He knew he was not the man he once was. What creation would let the body crumble while the minds still rocks? He wished they had aged together, grown frail together, stumbled together and died together.

A scuffle broke

Not far from their table a scuffle broke into their reflections. Five hundred eyes turned to the spiral stairs descending into the banquet hall.

Many guests stood to have a clearer view. The bride and the bridegroom climbed down, one step at a time. Then Dorothy tracked them saunter to the center of the dancing floor.

'Papa, look!' 'You can't miss the dance,' Agnes pleaded to the professor.

End

According to an Igbo proverb, 'When we mourn people we mourn ourselves.' When we have patience for elders, it is because we see ourselves in them.

About Elders helping hands

Seniors in my hometown face loneliness on a daily basis. Legend Afro-American Partners is a nonprofit organization with a vision to build the first senior recreation center in Eastern Nigeria. The estimated cost for our project is $150,000. Please donate what you can to help. http://www.eldershelpinghands.org (http://www.eldershelpinghands.org/donation/)