A weary couple, they entered the coffee shop with striking features so similar to one another I could have mistaken them as related. Although quickly I observed more than likely it was the many years together in love and life that predominately sealed their resemblance of each other.
Our chit chat began with the normal exchange of pleasantries arriving at the who, what, where and why they decidedly chose Yachats as their destination. “Just a day trip escape from Portland, she said,” where their journey began few days prior. They flew in from somewhere midwest to welcome into the world a new granddaughter. Accompanying them, their 6 year old grandson, whom they retain custody, the child traveling to meet his new half sister, visit his biological father and once again see his mother, this couple’s daughter.
Their coffee stop visit merely 25 minutes brief, carried in with them facial expressions drained yet spiritually calm. Softly they each took turns sharing just enough story carefully not delving into the vulnerable space one politely refrains from strangers. As they discreetly exposed circumstantial highlights regarding their troubled daughter’s history they were hesitant to speak further by dropping mid stream their sentences and often ending with, “a sad story better left unsaid for another time.” My throat began to tighten unable to swallow. I continued listening, touched by yet another well told version of grandparents raising their children’s children.
One days reprieve from everyday life – another couples journey to Yachats. I bid them farewell and upon closing my shop door I turned to see my chalkboard sign with a message I wrote stating, “Please leave your worries at the door.”
