He stands there in the doorway. the stutter of his thoughts skip out of his mouth in some incoherent old man gibberish. I watch this wrinkled but beautifully gruff and grizzled old man's eyes fill to their brim with his frustration. I am patient, my heart overflowing with love. I know how important it is he remains in control. I see him losing that battle with each visit. So I grab his hand in mine and pat the top with comfort and love. We begin our walk through the opening toward the roses he loves so much.
The frustration no longer contained draws moist lines down his dry, cracked old cheeks. I hear his breathing shudder a moment as he collects himself and his emotions. Finally, he begins his words..."I am glad you came to visit!"
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