Thanksgiving

Lincoln was wide awake after lunch yesterday, so with him by one hand and the wheelchair in the other, I lead us out for a wander. His head is often bent forward these days, almost always. It is a postural change that comes with his particular illness. He seems as fascinated by light and shadow on the ground, pebbles on the walk way, or his shoe laces as he once was by the horizon or the furthest peak. There was a deer grazing behind the cottages, gorgeous trees ablaze with gold and crimson, and new snow on the mountains. I was feeling sad that I could not find a way to help him lift his eyes to such enchantments. But the day was so beautiful and we were walking together and I nattered at myself to not taint the moment with regret. Then he stopped, turned his head sideways and looked at me. 

What's up? I asked.

Just checking, he said.

Checking what?

That it's you and I.