Puggy is 75, living alone, and has lived in his townhouse for decades. Thursday evening he (along with other families our work team served) for dinner. I was struck by the sunglasses he wore and never took off while with us. So I began to wonder ...
“Puggy’s” Eyes
Open brightly
each day welcoming into his home
spackling, sanding, painting, measuring, cutting, nailing, cleaning
no end to the work which distracts us from Puggy
pizza, cabbage soup lunch outside on his best chairs
thanks he says as he slips inside
Narrowing
when asked about family, children, wife, church
life is better without them
doing whatever
no one telling me what to do
no details disclosed, short conversation, struggle to connect
Hidden
behind dark glasses
a past life still desired
unending stories of this showman drummer
no more gigs
cell phone plan expired, number lost
Closed
head back on couch he naps
dark room
blaring noise of big screen television
oblivious to the mess, darkness, hope and hopelessness
Girl awakes, Puggy stirs
Soften
as we join hands to pray
could we hold this moment forever
hands hold tight
journey to accept each other amidst the mess
love received, love given
God, give me courage to overcome my judgment…
(Henry Beun, 11/13/10)
