100 Words on Love, by Doug Zeigler
I enter your room with curtains for walls. Cables and tubes strung all about and strangers in flimsy clothes add to confusion. Medical jargon is flung into my buzzing ears. And I am numb.
You are unable to speak. And that scares me. You’re always so talkative. This isn’t you. This isn’t real. It can’t be.
I feel you grab my hand. No fear in those eyes; you have a strength I’ll never have. My heart wells with hope and pride. This will all be OK.
I love and admire you, son. Together, we’ll conquer it all and move mountains.
More love, in 100 words.