Security Checkpoint

You had to pass through security and insisted you could stand on your own two feet and progress of your own volition. Though your wheelchair and diagnosed dementia evidence to the contrary, I figured: Who would it hurt? The stares of strangers as I held your hands and helped you to your feet informed me that I might be hurt -- Poor dear, so young to have to care for one so old! Or, perhaps, hurting you -- How could she put him through this? With the weight of their eyes upon us, you leaned on me and lurched: arduous, shuffling, inching on until you passed through security. You made it to the other side with a walk you won't remember, and I'll not soon forget.