I remember this old guy out walking in our neighborhood, every morning, after we moved into our house many years ago. He was always out there walking, regardless of the the weather, no matter the season. He had this angry, cantankerous old man look on his face as he trudged along, and as he got older, his pace slowed. I remember cheering him on in my mind when I drove by on my way to work.
One day I noticed he was walking with a cane, and his gait and rhythm had changed. His angry look seemed more determined, and I imagined him fighting off death.
After a while, a second cane appeared, and the fight continued. With the two canes, it reminded of the hikers I've seen with "walking sticks", only more fragile and halting.
The days when he didn't make it out became more frequent, and then he was gone. I don't remember him changing from the canes to a walker. I just remember the realization that he wasn't out there anymore.
I miss him.
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