I am the main care giver for my elderly father.
My observation from this is that old age can, at times, be a frightening journey along a path of pain, depression and great loss.
This past winter was particularly hard on Dad as the doctor finally took his driver's licence away.
His anger enveloped the small house for months.
Dad has an old John Deere lawn mower.
It didn't work at all for much of last summer and by rights it should have gone to the junkyard a long time ago.
Yesterday I was puttering around in the garden, worrying about the overgrown state of things and the damage to the barn caused by the violent wind storm we had in April.
I was wondering how we were going to manage this summer when Dad limp/hobbled onto the porch and told me he was going to look at the lawn mower.
"Okay," I said, then thought, "Like that old rust bucket is going to start after sitting all winter."
I braced myself for another major meltdown.
A few minutes later the garage door flew open and my 87½ year old father came rumbling down the driveway on his John Deere, which, unbelievably, cut the grass as if it had rolled off the assembly line yesterday.
The moral of this story is this:
You can take away a man's health,
his friends and his driver's licence
as long as there's a breath in his body
you'll never get his old John Deere.