Face Down

When we were in Los Angeles for our wedding, Terry and I stayed in a small hotel near the temple. One of those quietly kind places that does not ask for attention. Clean rooms. Soft light. Hallways that seemed to whisper instead of echo. I remember being surprised by how peaceful it felt, right there in the middle of Hollywood, as if the city had briefly stepped aside to let us pass.

Terry always understood his own limits. He respected his energy the way a good sailor respects the weather. We planned carefully so he could save his strength for the moments that mattered most. Introducing his bride. Seeing family. Standing tall where it counted. By the time we were dressed and ready to leave the hotel that day, everything felt light and new, like morning air before the heat arrives.

Terry looked especially handsome. Black trousers. A black shirt. Over it, a light creamy yellow leather jacket with delicate Indian details that caught the light when he moved. He looked like himself, but polished by joy.

We stepped into the hallway hand in hand.

A door suddenly opened. A room service woman stepped out, pushing her cart. Terry, focused on his steps, looked up and smiled. “Hello, beautiful lady!”

And then gravity entered the conversation.

In one smooth, unforgettable moment, Terry went full length, face down on the carpet. Since we were holding hands, I followed halfway, which is how physics works. The beautiful lady froze completely. Eyes wide. Time paused. Somewhere, the universe cleared its throat.

From the floor came Terry’s voice, cheerful and unapologetic. “Oops.” Then, still addressing her, “I am so sorry. Are you okay? I was busy admiring you and forgot to watch my steps.”

She remained frozen, as if afraid movement might break the spell.

We scrambled back to our feet. Terry brushed himself off and continued, entirely undeterred. “Wow. This is a good carpet. It really got me.”

That did it.

The room service woman found herself again. Concern turned into laughter. The hallway softened. What could have been awkward became generous and bright. Terry kept talking, gently, kindly, until we were all standing upright and smiling as if we had shared something oddly wonderful.

I am still amazed by that moment.

How he made space for humor instead of embarrassment. How he lifted everyone involved. How even flat on his face, he led with grace.

Some people enter a room standing tall.

Terry entered that hallway face down.

And somehow, everyone left feeling lighter.