He mostly sits and watches now as childhood memories are made. Back in the day, he'd be front and center, playing games and telling stories. He never missed a cookout or school play and was always available to listen. But he grew silent along the way, and his steps were more of a shuffle. It was as if he gave all he could to this life and somewhat patiently awaited the next. I watched him crack a little smile as one of the kids made a face at him, but it didn't last long. What was going on inside of him? Was he at peace, was he frightened, or was he just waiting?
This old, frail man with a hundred lines on his weathered face was my teacher, counselor, and best friend. Sometimes, I catch him looking at me deep into my soul as he cracks a little smile as if to say I'll see you on the other side, my friend.
Mike 2024
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