Remember Me This Way

I stood in line at the grocery store today,
Behind an old white man, bent with age,
His hands trembling, his back curved like a question mark.
The cashier rang up his items, one by one,
And he nudged them forward on the conveyor, careful and deliberate,
Ensuring nothing remained behind.

That frail old man, with hands that shook
And a spine that seemed to carry too many years,
Clutched a small red tin shaped like a heart.
A tin of Lindt chocolates nestled in his grip,
The final thing he offered up,
Yet surely the first in his thoughts.

She…
…the first thing on his mind.
Will you remember me this way?
Please, remember me this way.