Elderly Friend

His back pain never ceases since the crash, when the other driver failed to see the red light. The active and early retirement he enjoyed for thirty years changed in a moment, as if someone pressed the “stop” button. He now spends his days in a favorite chair looking out the front door at a narrow view of the neighborhood, like a wounded race horse in a stall. The TV is never on during the day and no radio can be seen nearby, as he finds comfort in the only place that conforms to his malformed spine. I’ve known him for five years and visit him periodically, because he seems to enjoy company. He’s full of stories that frequently repeat themselves, while I listen as if they’re new— good one’s worth relishing again on a lazy afternoon. I lift his spirits by being there and seek no recompense. To see him smile and hear an occasional laugh is my reward. He is a friend, albeit limited due to circumstances, and I’ll miss him, as time takes its toll and strength recedes in increments too small to measure.