Daily Prompt; Moment of Kindness

man  in wheelchair

http://dailypost.wordpress.com, DP, Daily Prompt

Describe a moment of kindness, between you and someone else — loved one or complete stranger.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us KINDNESS.

A broken man sitting in the garage, looking around at the cob webs, high lighted from the sun. What had he done to himself and his family? How could he be so weak? Straying a way from his very beliefs he was brought up and fed on.

He picked up a stick, twisting it between his fingers. Tears pooling in his eyes as he shaped the one slender piece into a shape of a gun.

He couldn’t admit to his wife his wrong doing. It wasn’t her fault, why make her miserable. Wasn’t he miserable enough for the two of them? And yet he knew, somewhere deep inside of him tugged at him, pulling his strings, begging him to tell.

Standing up and dusting himself off he walked through the doors and bolted them behind him. He went inside the house. His wife was running errands and the sound of the cuckoo clock was all that could be heard.

Walking to the gun cabinet, he ran his hand over the smooth dark wood. Feeling the coldness of the shell reminded him of his heart that one day not long ago.

Making prints on the glass doors his fingers fumbled with the latch until it slowly opened and there with nothing separating them were his favorite hunting guns. It would be so easy. Take a gun down you coward. You are nothing but a stinking coward. Do the only thing you can do, pull the trigger.

He held the gun in his arms as if it was a precious cargo and then got the oil and his polishing rag and sat on the couch and oiled it. When he was finished he could see a slight reflection of himself. Looking at it he felt shame. Tears slowly trickled down his face.

He could take it no longer. He picked the gun up and headed towards his truck. Getting in and putting it in reverse he wanted to see her one more time. The truck proceeded in the direction of town as it had done so many times before.

He knew where she had gone so he pulled into a business parking lot and parked as far back as he could. The shade of the trees helped hide him a bit better. He waited, fingering the gun, watching for her to walk by.

Soon she came into his view. She was stopped, talking to a lady who was a neighbor to them. She was so beautiful. He knew he had married the prettiest woman in the world. They had been married for ten years, most of them a joy.

So why, why in the world did he do what he did? There were no more tears. Instead, anger began to over take his soul as he hated himself more and more for his stupid mistake.

She worked with him. She was always so nice and she smelled good. She teased his manhood with revealing clothes. One of those few nights an argument had broken out at home.

He left and went to the local bar and there she was. Flirting with the guys on the stools. She turned to see who had walked in and their eyes met. She walked over and he had let his ego get the best of him. He knew he was right and he was hurt that his own wife didn’t believe him. Before the evening was over he had sex with this woman.

A pay back, a back fire, a total waste. Now he sat here holding the gun, watching his wife, and thinking of the best way to do it, when a knock came at the side of his truck. He rolled his window down and stared at the dirty man looking up at him.

“Mr. I seen you sitting here in your truck and I thought maybe you could just spare me some change. I am awful hungry. I haven’t eaten all day. Ever since I had that accident and my legs got blown off, I have wished most times I was dead. I used to have this great life. I had a good job at the foundry. I had a pretty wife and a couple of kids. But, then this happened.” He pointed down to the place where once legs would be hanging.

He laid the gun down and dug in his pocket, pulling out a twenty. He handed it down to the guy and as the stranger took it, he said,”Bless you my friend. I am sure God will bless you for saving my life today.”

He watched the man wheel himself out of the parking lot and watched until he could see him no more. He looked to where his wife was standing and saw that she was no longer there.

He started his truck and drove back home. Putting the gun back in the cabinet he sat at the table waiting for her to get home. Finally the door handle turned. He looked up into the most beautiful eyes and said, “Honey, can you come sit by me. I have something to tell you.”

Faith, Hope and Friendship

It is Thursday evening,7:30, and all is quiet. I feel like I am waiting for a package to arrive and maybe I am.

I have had some information for a week now but was waiting until I could tell you about it until I knew I wouldn’t break down half-way through the post.

I will say first off that anyone who prayed for Al and me and the situation about Hospice being involved did a great powerful job of praying. The prayer was answered. Hospice is going to be involved all the way.

The hours have been split between Hospice and the Day Care program. Al will have his bathing and dressing done between all of them. He will have 24 hour nurses at his door. He will be checked on regularly.

He even gets to remain active out in the community. I thought this program would end once he came home, but God wants him to be as happy as possible, so it remains.

I had the meeting with the State, the Day Program and the facility this morning. It went well until the administrator spoke his mind. He was considering not letting Al be dismissed because of the pressing debt we owe this place.

I was torn in pieces. My brother wants to come home so bad and yet he still owes over $3,000.00. To have to tell Al that he could not go home was enough for me to want to run and run and run. Just hide, never to have to see Al’s sad face and tears galore. I couldn’t deal with it.

Instead I spoke up and told him what I thought and what the Ombudsman thought and I told him that I would be following the directions of the Ombudsman, and that he would release Al tomorrow as planned or I would call the State back right here in the office in front of all.

He smiled that wicked smile, and then said I better make sure that bill is paid. I have 11 days left if anyone at all would like to make a small contribution. Any amount is helpful. The address is


I won’t ask again as the time for this fundraiser is almost expired. I want to thank all of you who have already helped and I want to apologize for asking one more time for help.

At this time, the hospital bed, wheelchair and lift chair have all been delivered. I have his bed made and the door is remaining open to open the room up some.

Excuse me while I choke a little. I told myself I am not going to cry. It is just I get tired. Tired of fighting everyone to get what Al deserves. Tired of the family that is left that never comes to visit. Tired of fighting the system, tired of the nursing facility, tired of seeing bottles and bottles of medicines and tired of sad news.

The news that I learned last Friday was not good. Al has another diagnosis on top of his Parkinson’s Disease. It is called M.S.A. It mimics Parkinson’s very much, but there are changes that happen that can place it in detailed form.

So many things have fallen into place this week. Why Al sweats so bad, why his illness has progressed so quickly. Why he cries more often than not. M.S.A. attacks the spinal cord plus the central nervous system and messes with the electrical system. His heart doesn’t know how to beat properly. He can have heart beats up to 300 per minute. The sweating is involved. Depression is very high. M.S.A. stands for Multiple System Atrophy.

I didn’t realize that the doctor had faxed this new information to the facility this week. I couldn’t figure out why so many were coming up to me and patting me on the back offering, I am sorry’s.

Then someone told me they knew. They knew what I had been running and hiding from. They knew that Al’s life had changed. Now I know for sure why Hospice is involved. Now I understand why Al is coming home on this precise date.  M.S.A. has a much shorter life span, and the news that I had to listen to from the doctor was, Al will probably not be here in six months. I want him to have everything he needs to be comfortable. He will end up aspirating from this. Food will go down into his lungs and this will take his life. I want you to have nurses around the clock for you to utilize.

These words still haunt me a week later. Life is going to be the best I can make it. For Al and for me. I am going to make a new memory out of every single day he has left. God knew all along what was going to happen. His plan was perfect.

So from here on out, it will be all of you, Hospice, Day Program and me, and I will get through this, because God knows I can do it.

Each day I will carry hope, faith and friendship until the very end.