Much better day. I took my guy on long, long wheelchair romp down rail trail to Fawn Lake and beyond. We stopped to smell ferns, flowers, and sarsaparilla root, from which root beer once was made.
We came upon a very old fellow walking a very old dog. The sweet old fellow stopped to talk to us and the sweet old dog ambled over for sniffs and greetings.
My guys says, “Mary Cummings Park!” to the old gentleman, who says, “What?”
(The Friends of Mary Cummings Park is where I became friends with my guy, and he loves to talk about it.)
So I carefully say “He is talking about Mary Cummings Park!”
And the old fellows says back, “Your marriage coming apart?”
We say goodbye and wander back to the ward, again getting help from a stranger to wheel my guy up the steep path from the rail trail into the VA parking lot.
Upstairs the Jewish vet is still deep in his trance.