Gratitude

This may have been our last cookie morning at the Del Coronado.

 (For the past week Andy has been unable to drink coffee.)

His new Hospice team starts today.

I hold a, probably mistaken, belief that good is possible.

I walk a dying man home, grateful for the privilege.

Today Andy was uncomfortable, a bit dizzy.

He wanted to head home and I wanted to walk him.

I’ve enjoyed his company for two years.

It’s not often that you or I chance to offer comfort,

And know it is simply appreciated.

Halfway to his condo we stop to sit on a sunny ledge

and listen to the ocean.

The sounds of small waves occasionally subsides

Before the next set of one foot wavelets reminds us

Of a thousand other moments where quiet has been part

Of the unexpected gift of the “now.”

Our shared recognition of the absurd holds us captive,

Until Andy zips his jacket and we walk to his home.

A brief conversation with Andy and Dee, his wife,

Pushes my ego to an unhealthy level,

Which persists, as I write this poem.

My gratitude is limitless.