My morning runs always consisted of an eight-kilometre stretch of beach. It was a little overcast this morning, making the sand a tiny bit damp, just enough to make the taking of steps require that bit more effort.
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I always kept to the same route, as it was familiar, and I was able to place how long I had been running based on my location on the beach.
About two-thirds of the way there is always an elderly couple that set up two beach chairs and an umbrella and watch the rhythmic waves in each other's company. They always gave the friendliest of waves as I passed.
I don't know how long they sat there for, but they're there when I first pass and, on my way back. They always set up in the same spot, directly in front of a path at the edge of the beach, that I assume would lead to their home.
This particular morning, however, there was only the man that sat out on the beach, but still with two seats set up. He waved as I passed, and I gestured back with a simple nod and smile. My mind didn't stick to any reasons as to why he was by himself.
When I had turned to back-track down the beach, I could see in the distance, to no surprise the old couple's set up, but still just the man by himself. Now having their slightly tattered and faded setup locked in my sight I really started to wonder where his partner may have been.
As I approached closer, I steadied to a slower pace, and on a whim decided I'd stop and speak to the man. A little gust of wind had picked up and I could see the loose threads in the umbrella dancing in the flow of the wind. I walked up and introduced myself to the man and asked why he was on his own today.
He responded, informing me of how his partner had very recently passed and was now left with himself. I felt something catch in my throat, and my cheeks redden a bit as I felt guilty for asking. He asked me to sit with him, admitting he still felt uncomfortable sitting on his own, gesturing to the empty seat.
I slowly leaned into the seat, being cautious not to tear the fabric as it looked frail in its withered state. It was obvious it had been used every day for its purpose.
I sat awkwardly as I never usually drift from my routines. There was a moment of silence until the old man spoke up.
"We had been together for 72 years. It feels weird now not having them with me, knowing I won't wake beside them each morning. Though I don't think that will be an issue for long.
"It was peaceful . . . their passing. Just gone in their sleep. It's something I find both terrifying and calming at the same time, knowing there won't be pain. I expect it'll be my turn soon."
We both sat looking into the ocean's eyes. I felt uncomfortable with the thought and discussion of death. The only time I had a close one pass was when I was a child, and still grasping the concept itself.
After another moment's silence, he continued.
"I found our most exciting times together was when we were in our 50s and 60s. That's the time we took to travel and explore the world.
"You see before that it was always work and family and mortgages. Which was fine, we had little adventures here and there, but we needed more.
It's not a complicated thing. It's simple.
"We didn't want to stay in the same routine for the rest of our lives.
"On our trips around the world, we saw so many beautiful sites and met the most interesting people you could imagine.
"It helped us see the beauty in life. It's not a complicated thing. It's simple.
"You just have to be able to stop and really feel yourself be present in your surroundings.
"Though I may be getting to the end of my time, I truly do feel blessed to have lived my life, and truly feel at peace."
I noticed a tear navigating its way over his weathered face. It was obvious to see he was happy, and I could tell he was able to clearly relive those memories in the stories he told.
The next couple of days I stopped on my run to sit and talk to him. He told me countless stories of all the places he and his partner had been.
It was so interesting just being able to envision someone else's life. After each story, I always found myself in some meditative state.
Calm and relaxed, just being able to feel someone else's peace.
After more days consisting of our little talks, came a day I hadn't even given thought to. As I was running up to the couple's spot, I saw no chairs and no umbrella. I stopped at their spot, confused, and looked towards the tree line. I noticed two small decorated stones set next to the path on the edge of the beach and realised what had happened.
I sat down on the sand; knees bent with my head positioned between them. I didn't feel like bursting into tears, but I did feel sorrow.
Knowing how he knew this day would come, I felt tears slowly drip down my face. I looked to the ocean and felt a small smile arise at the side of my mouth. I had enjoyed the conversations we had, but I knew he was now with his partner and that was peacefully resting.
The next morning as I set out on my run, I paused for a second. I looked down the path towards the beach and turned to take another route.
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Casey Tumbers, the author of this piece, is a finalist in the 2022 Newcastle Herald Short Story Competition. Read the full list of finalists in this year's Herald Short Story Competition by visiting the Newcastle Herald website.
