The Visit

I visited a friend of mine today. It's been a long while.

His name is John and he is nearly 70 years old.

Once upon a time he had been a world leader in the scouting movement.

He has been in a wheelchair since he was in his 30's after breaking his spine in an accident.

Today he can only move the fingers of one hand.

Once fiercely independent, he now resides in an aged care home in the suburbs.

He has gradually moved, as the need demanded, from his family home to a fully modified unit to now a small room 16 metres square.

It is surrounded by scurrying nurses and the smell of disinfectant.

We talked as we do. He shared about his life, both now and from the past.

We swapped stories of what has been happening in each of our lives.

It was a good visit.

They always are.

He wheeled over with me to the front of the complex to say goodbye.

I leaned over and gave him a long hug.

His shoulders heaved and he began to cry.

It took a few minutes for him to settle.

He was apologetic and made sure that I knew I had done nothing wrong.

Concerned I asked him what had happened.

"Oh it's really nothing." he replied. "It's only that that's the first real hug I've had in over three years. There's no one here who cares enough to  give me just a hug. I miss them."

Now it was me who wept.

It really touched my heart.

And how sad.

John was once like you and me.

Circumstance had robbed him of his limbs.
Age and health had robbed him of his independence.
Society had robbed him of his usefulness.

He was now neatly placed away and out of sight.
Existing in a life that keeps him alive, but barely living.

He has come to terms with this.

He is a brave man.

He is planning his funeral.
He calls it his 'hobby'.

He is surrounded by photographs of his family.
All passed away except for a brother.

And yet, he is grateful.
So very grateful.

He values each moment and lives life to the fullest.
Some days, his greatest achievement is getting outside to see the sky.

And today he was most grateful for a simple hug.

I left him today with a wave and a final backwards glance.

And safe in my car I wept once more.