I'm knitting and unravelling the same line of a shawl over and over. It may look painful to someone who is fascinated by the art.
To me, it's methodical.
Eventually just getting it right.
She watches me for a moment. Her hair gleaming steel grey in this mood lit cafe. Her husband attentively by her side.
Taking turns finishing a crossword they eagerly started before I arrived.
This scene is familiar. Somehow at this one cafe, at this particular time, I always seem to sit down, look over, and quietly notice them.
Are you ever going to finish that?
A smile escapes me.
I'm leaving with an unwrapped gift in my bag. Passing a couple head to head over a familiar scene. My hair is tied back and I step closest to their table.
We've experienced seasons since I last spoke with them. Each time our eyes met over the year it was there we rested in sincere understanding.
One time more than 6 months ago.
I was knitting and she keenly asked why there was a band-aid on my cheek.
I had a routine skin biopsy, today.
And she slowly eases closer to me.
I've just survived stage 4 brain cancer.
Today they are gently welcoming yet another encounter.
I've finally finished what I've started.
Holding it up, for the full view.
And a smile escapes her.
I knew you would.