(Dedicated to honoring my Uncle Dave who has valued strength and passion his whole life, who now faces his next greatest act of bravery: living passionately in the weakness of a life with ALS.)
When you see a strong memoried man stare straight into his short future, your head spins his direction. From my angle, I can't quite see his screen, but I see his reflection as in the darkness of a TV screen. His silence shallow breathes words with his eyes.
There's sweet assuredness mingling with pain and doubt like whiskey and coke. But his wrestle with the hard life ahead can't be watered down like sinking ice cubes. The slow sweet drink of Coke won't drown out the strength of this bitter taste of the lowball he's been handed. Certainly, he'd say he's been slid a strong kicking tumbler.
In this part of life's ride, he's facing the frustration of a stop sign on a steep hill. Smoothly moving on is putting his control and riding skills to the test. He's had to disengage the clutch on the life he prefers to live. Yet, his hands still clamp handles of a walker to steady walk him through a daily path of moguls. Life has already taught him there are many times when the smooth roadway turns to a patch of loose gravel or an encounter that offsets his stable footing.
But he's clinging to his unforgotten riding skills for this one.
Make life an honest ride....There are days when this disease kicks his ass, and he feels like he's face down like the shelf life of wine rather than whiskey, and there are days when he kicks it. No doubt, the fight is worth every second if a second is all he has of this ride.
Live humble these days because he has no white horse to travel upon.... If he could bow long and slow to his queen, he'd stay on his knees kissing her hands.
Kindness is the strength of love lived out in action. His light hug is belted tightly around you with an "I love you." The gentleman that escorts you to the door, whispers again with head weak low "I love you," and weight lift raises his hands to his lips to blow a kiss goodbye from behind his glass paneled door.
Living well is rightly reworked into willing to live. When breath doesn't come easily and spending it is worth a million dollars, what do you dare to gamble your last breaths on? He has no time or energy for the deep breathes of reserved regret. Breath is reserved for the bravery of releasing forgiveness. So much life breath wasted on needless words and worries.
His soul stands in praise with hands held high wrestling with the weeding out and emptying of all the unnecessary. Now words don't waste his breath. His words speak with the intention to give his soul to the Master. To speak for what mattered in the whole of his life. To make his words last for loved ones for the rest of his life.
When you see a strong memoried man stare straight into his short future, your head spins his direction. From my angle, I can't quite see his screen, but I see his reflection as in the darkness of a TV screen. His silence shallow breathes words with his eyes.
There's sweet assuredness mingling with pain and doubt like whiskey and coke. But his wrestle with the hard life ahead can't be watered down like sinking ice cubes. The slow sweet drink of Coke won't drown out the strength of this bitter taste of the lowball he's been handed. Certainly, he'd say he's been slid a strong kicking tumbler.
In this part of life's ride, he's facing the frustration of a stop sign on a steep hill. Smoothly moving on is putting his control and riding skills to the test. He's had to disengage the clutch on the life he prefers to live. Yet, his hands still clamp handles of a walker to steady walk him through a daily path of moguls. Life has already taught him there are many times when the smooth roadway turns to a patch of loose gravel or an encounter that offsets his stable footing.
But he's clinging to his unforgotten riding skills for this one.
Make life an honest ride....There are days when this disease kicks his ass, and he feels like he's face down like the shelf life of wine rather than whiskey, and there are days when he kicks it. No doubt, the fight is worth every second if a second is all he has of this ride.
Live humble these days because he has no white horse to travel upon.... If he could bow long and slow to his queen, he'd stay on his knees kissing her hands.
Kindness is the strength of love lived out in action. His light hug is belted tightly around you with an "I love you." The gentleman that escorts you to the door, whispers again with head weak low "I love you," and weight lift raises his hands to his lips to blow a kiss goodbye from behind his glass paneled door.
Living well is rightly reworked into willing to live. When breath doesn't come easily and spending it is worth a million dollars, what do you dare to gamble your last breaths on? He has no time or energy for the deep breathes of reserved regret. Breath is reserved for the bravery of releasing forgiveness. So much life breath wasted on needless words and worries.
His soul stands in praise with hands held high wrestling with the weeding out and emptying of all the unnecessary. Now words don't waste his breath. His words speak with the intention to give his soul to the Master. To speak for what mattered in the whole of his life. To make his words last for loved ones for the rest of his life.
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