A, sort of, miracle happened. Friends and long time readers know that Joe, lovely man though he is, has a tyrant gene that comes out when he gets behind the wheel. He has no interest in doing anything but getting to the destination. We can stop for pee and gas but even that's done grudgingly. So, it took me quite by surprise that Joe said, suddenly, 'Why don't we pull off and find a place to have a cup of tea?'
I stared at him stunned. I thought, "This is not Joe. This is not MY Joe. Whoever took him, give him back." He looked at me and simply said, "What?"
So we pulled over and found a place to go for a tea. We settled in at the table and it was wonderful to have a break from the car and from the road. The place was bustling and wonderfully distracting. Beside us sat a young man, maybe 22 or 23 and a man maybe twice his age, like me sitting in a wheelchair. They each had a coffee beside them and a piece of pie in front of them. They were staring out the window. I looked to see what had caught their attention, a young woman was parking one of those huge trucks into a small parking space. She took three goes but then slid it in just perfectly. The young man punched the older guy on his shoulder with a, "I knew she'd get it in." The old guy laughed so hard he started coughing. Drool flew out of his mouth and quick as it did a handkerchief came out of the young man's pocket. With skill AND affection, he wiped the drool from the man's face saying, 'Come on Dad, she wasn't that pretty.' Thst set the laughter off again.
Over the while it took us to drink our tea, the young man got coffee and pie into his father. Chatting all the while. Dad, never said a word. Son, who's name we figured out when he broke off from telling his dad about being back in school, "Here's were you always said, 'Bradley, liquour on the weekends, lick the rest of them during the week.' Then he went on to talk about what he was studying and others in his class. Dad looked at him with a love that you could butter on toast.
One man spoke but two men had a conversation.
There is an art to caring.
Some are born with genius. In this case, I think it may have been inhereted.