A Good Day

“Want to go outside?”

“Is it warm?”

“Yeah, it’s nice out!”

His head shakes. “Yeah.  Let’s go outside.”  There’s a cheer in his voice that overpowers the tired his eyes.

“Have they had you walking a lot with the walker?”  I want to hear him tell me what he’s been up to.

“Oh yeah.  We walk a lot!”  There’s cheer and pride in that voice that warms me with hope.

“Alright, then, let’s walk down the hall to the elevator and then I’ll take you for a ride in the wheel chair.  Ohh, Dad, I get to take your for a spin!”

My mother is listening and laughing.

Grace moves his tray out of the way making way for Megan who is dancing with the walker towards him.

I watch as he purposefully grabs the handles of the walker and swiftly stands.

“Woooo Dad!  That’s impressive!  You couldn’t do that two weeks ago!  You’ve been working  hard in PT!”

“Yes I have.”  He says with a twinkle in his eye and accomplishment written all over his face.  “I need to get outta here.” he smiles.  “I’m gonna go home.”  

“He’s made some really good progress in the past few days.”  My mother acknowledges the celebratory tone in his voice.

I watch as my Dad swiftly moves down the hall, greeting all the friends he’s made in the past few weeks.

We make it to the elevator and he transitions to the wheelchair.

“Ready Dad?  I’m drivin’ ya, now!”  I’ve learned from him how to live it up…always.

The elevator door opens.  We move as one. Father and daughter.

The door opens and we move to the hall.

“Where we going, Ma?”  I seek her guidance in this place that has become all to familiar to her.

“This way.”  My mother leads.

“Let’s race!”  I say as I pick up speed with the chair.

“Here we go!”  Dad says.

“We’re gonna beat ya mom!”  We cautiously race and pass my Mom.

“We WON, Dad!”

I can hear Grace and Megan laughing at the antics.  Billy’s just shaking his head.  I can’t see him, but I know it.

We make a right turn and the court yard is before us.  The blue sky and sunshine calls Dad’s name.  We make our way to some empty chairs and I watch my Dad, with his rediscovered strength, get himself our of the wheel chair and into a patio chair.  He pauses, slightly out of breath, and says “Ahh, yes.  The sun feels so good.”

“Dad, for a guy who is not doin’ so good, YOU are doin’ pretty good.”  I smile and say.