You tried to run over us with your chair
that first meeting we had.
You said you didn’t like laughing people,
especially those with dogs.
We laughed, you cursed,
and for some reason, we liked you.
Time went on, you fell in love with our dog.
We visited, we talked–
we became fast friends.
We discussed many things and
you had so many wonderful stories.
You consulted us as we did you,
listening to each other, growing with knowledge we shared.
You moved into a home,
but still we talked on the phone.
We heard sadness in your voice as
others, doctors, reminded you you were getting old.
Yes, you are 86 but aware, fighting
to stay with the world and hold your place.
But again, they didn’t listen to you
and your complaints were valid.
Now you are in hospice.
We know your frustration and pain
but still we love you, dear Nelson,
and we respect and revere your 86 years.
You will never be “just an old man”
to we who love you and hear you.
We love you.
Your soul is linked with ours.