Prologue

Upon first impression it was easy to dismiss him as a bit of a goof. Physically, he bore an appreciable resemblance to the description of Icabod Crane, "....tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together." (The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving)  Add to that a proclivity for wearing clothing beige or plaid, stir well with a wincingly corny sense of humor and you might begin to get the picture.

it fell to me to be the driver

my wife and I were helping her Dad

head for warmer climes

so I coasted the Buick down the drive

near the walkway's end

in the right side rearview mirror

I could watch him

rolling out onto the broad stone stoop

of the house

that had been his home

for more than forty years

he sat gaunt in the wheelchair

looking smaller than I could ever remember

while his daughter

locked the great white door

behind them

with care

she eased him

over the one worn step

onto the slated walk

that he had so often trod

passing to and from his work

how many times did he

rake those slabs clear of leaves

shovel off the snow

side-step bikes and toys

or simply pause there

staring at the ridges

thinking through a deal

he had built a firm

whose business

brought comfort to the ill

and provided livelihoods

for dozens of families

such was his legacy

now jostling along

his jowls quivered

as a few fugitive

strands of gray

tossed

in the sunset

breeze

I opened the passenger door

bracing it

so he could

pull  himself up

by the window frame

one hand on the door

the other on the roof

legs spread

he hunched forward

but did not

begin to sit

instead he paused

a lifelong moment

and I could see

in his face

that he was struggling

he knew

there were only

a few months left

he knew

he would never

come home again

would he turn

would he look back

one last time

then

in an act of courage

I might only one day hope to match

eyes fastened forward

the executive

straightened to his full height

took a long steady breath

dipped into the car

and moved on

Epilogue

Despite his peculiarities, he possessed a distinctly incisive intelligence and a kind of steel that proved quite formidable throughout his life. Following his discharge from the military in 1945, he began a career as an increasingly successful entrepreneur. Whether by good luck, good sense or both, he had the vision to recognize the nuclear future and established one of the first businesses to handle nuclear waste. The rapid growth of that enterprise soon provided him the contacts and capital to move into the fledgling industry of nuclear medicine. With the founding of a private company, he eventually became a principle in the development and marketing of nuclear diagnostic devices and treatments. By the time of his retirement he had created a multi-million dollar concern and earned the respect of hospitals and physicians throughout the country who had come to rely upon his products.

His ability to influence almost anything he put his mind to required even death to accede his will. During the day of his passing he was weak and weary with his long and wasting illness. It seemed as though he could've slipped away at any moment, but his son was unable to get a flight sooner than that evening. Consequently, he determined the end would simply have to wait. Only when his son had joined his wife and daughter at his bedside did he finally relent to sleep. Not long after, his shallow respiration grew slower and slower until it came no more.

https://youtu.be/Wt5lghrgTLc