Today He’s Good

He wants to be with her

He lost everything when she left

There is such a thing as too much solitude

He sits; it’s easier this way

His old bones creak and grumble with each movement

His thoughts, especially of her, loop over and over again in his fragile mind

He’s sick; a sobering diagnosis

Treatment an option in technical terms only

It’s not an option mentally

He can’t do it; he saw her do it

Box seats to an excruciating ensemble

All for maybe a few more years

Of what?

So we make the most of the time left

Marathon phone conversations that sharply narrow the gap of more than a thousand miles of distance

He’s normal, jovial, talkative

The same old stories; the ones I’ve heard for 30 years

I can tell them myself by now

But he enjoys telling them

They’re classics; at least in our circle

The talks are therapeutic; Relief that he is still him

There will come a day when things will be different

The stories will cease

He won’t be able to tell them

But he’s at peace with that

And I am too

Today he’s good

And so am I


Heroes suffer

Sometimes just as painfully as you and I

Cracks of wear and tear line their face

Illness riddles their body

Renders them a shell of their former self…….

Heroes end up in hospital beds

In states of confusion

Not a care in the world

Not knowing who you are

Or their impact on your life…….

Heroes have faults

Many of them

Even though they were masked when you were impressionable

Hardly takes away from their heroic status

That they once held…….

Heroes are not immune to time

The undisputed and undefeated villain

When it grabs a hold of them

I wonder if the real victims are us

Those who looked up to them

Witnessing them going out this way…….

Heroes do die

All of them

As unfathomable as it once seemed

Many decades ago…….

Heroes live on

Long after they’re gone

In stories, moments of reminiscence

In how you live your life

Living with their example in mind

Maybe one day to be the hero yourself

Old Cemetery

What happened to you?

It says DIED 1859; Aged 11

Disease? An accident? Did your mom and dad cope the best they could? Did they have other children to lean on?

Mr. Alfred Paine

Died 1895; Aged 71 years, 3 months;

His beloved wife Ann; Died 1896; Aged 70 years, 11 months

Did he sweep you off you feet? Did you create 50 plus years of amazing memories? Was he the only one for you? Did you hold on for another year despite the Broken Heart?

Private John E. Adkinson

Died 1864; Battle of Cold Harbor

What did your eyes see in the preceding years? How many comrades and friends did you watch die? Were you taken quick or did you get a chance to think about your loved ones while knowing you would never get back to them?

Me (20??)

What questions will be asked by those who wander by my stone?

You can gain a plethora of knowledge walking through old cemeteries, however, the number of questions far exceeds the answers. The next time you have a chance, walk through one and read some of the gravestones. It’s amazing what comes to ones mind.

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