He didn't know I was there. I had just stepped off the elevator and I saw a tired little man in a wheelchair. He was bowed over, grasping the handrail. I waited patiently even though I was in a hurry because he was in my way. I watched as he started to pull himself along the hallway to take himself to his hospital room. He was using the handrail instead of the wheels of the chair. "I guess it is easier that way", I thought to myself. It was so obvious that he was so tired.
Then I recognized the man. I was horrified with myself for not recognizing him and at him for being so sick. "When did this happen? How did this happen?" This frail, little man was my dad. He was not recognizable to me as the man I had always known. I watched as he pulled himself down the hallway and I wondered what I should do. My dad had never needed my help for anything. To say he was a dynamo would not be an exxageration.
"Daddy," I whispered under my breath. It was a moment in my life that I knew everything had changed. I walked up and said with a smile on my face and my heart breaking, "Hey Daddy, do you want some help?"
He looked up at me with the weak, pale, scruffy face of a little old man who was happy that a voice he knew was talking to him. "Sure," he said, "give us a push." So I pushed him to his room and I watched as it took all his effort to get out of the chair. I didn't know if I should offer to help, so I didn't. I was in shock.
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