Kiss of Peace

An image from last Sunday is stuck in my mind.  From where I am with the choir, behind the altar, I can see out into the congregation.  Just a few pews away a young couple caught my  attention.  She was kind of petite, stood just a little higher than his shoulder,  just as Gwen did with me.  That was the first reminder.  Of course, they held hands through most of the service, just the way we did, even toward the end when Gwen was in a wheelchair.

At the part of Mass called the "kiss of peace" people shake the hands of those near them and say something like "peace  be with you."   Gwen and I never went for the handshake, it was literally a kiss of peace--on the lips.  Again I watched the young couple; he embraced her and then the kiss they exchanged was much more than a friendly peck on the cheek.  It brought me such joy to see that.  Call it what you will, an old guy reminiscing about past glories, it made my heart feel good to see that young couple and be reminded of the gift of love that Gwen and I shared for so many years.   And, they even kind of  looked like us.

At the kiss of peace I give all the youngsters in the choir a big hug.  They tell me I smell good, Dear, but I think it has more to do with being some sort of grandfather figure.