The Patient at 9
His hands are trembling, his gait a shuffle, sometimes his voice is no more than a muffle.
His balance is off, he’s had many falls, sometimes to begin walking, there’s several stalls.
Some days are good, others are fair; some days it seems like his mind is hardly there.
He’s so optimistic, despite his condition; to help him in any way is my main mission.
I teach him some nutrition to help with his brain; we work on balance exercises, we shoot for any gain.
He has to come early, before sundowning time; I look for his smile, every morning at nine.
He carries a stick to help with his gait; he walks with a shuffle and a wobble, hardly straight.
He has determination in his eyes; his strength and positivity never disguised.
He puts forth an effort, always one hundred percent, every move he makes is made with intent.
His wisdom so valued; his persistence inspiring; my heart aches for him as I watch him tiring.
His eyes start to soften, his tremors picking up; his body fatiguing, we know he’s had enough.
He rests for a while, we sit there and talk; after he rests up, we go for our walk.
As I walk him out, I pray for his health, I pray he finds peace with this hand he was dealt.
I find peace in knowing he has lead a happy life; I find peace in knowing he’s found Jesus Christ.
I will continue praying, and until next time, I’m looking forward to next Tuesday morning at nine.
Copyright ©
Jessica Murphy
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