A Gift

He said that part of his physical
therapy is riding a stationary bike.
He has come a long way in
recovery since reality smacked
him right between the eyes
nine months ago about a
physical condition not
unlike the one that took his
mother’s life when she was
about his age. As he told of
his therapy, I recalled how much
he loved riding his bike, his
joy at winning his first ten-speed
in a contest, winning the sprint
triathlon (he was always good
and fast at short races.) and
then cruising up and down and
around the mountains of Colorado.
“So, your back doesn’t hurt when
you ride?” “No.” “Oh, this is a
gift.” “I know.” I said “You’ll
be back on the bike lanes in no
time,” then “I love you,” then
goodbye and hung up as I started
to cry.

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