With permission from the author Sharyn Fields, a local columnist, here is an exquisite tale of Human Dignity.. and how it can be shared.
In photographs from just a few short years ago, he is all smoky, dark and lean, with smoldering blue/green eyes, sinewy muscles like snaking ropes coiling around down his arms and the length of his tanned legs....
He tells me of his life as a tennis pro, of hunting and fishing in Alaska, of fortunes won with his brilliant business mind and daring entrepreneurial spirit, of expeditions and tattoos, travel and dashing adventure.
He speaks of female companions, skating delicately across the surface of the subject as if it were of no consequence at all. This attempt at subtlety practically shouts at me what I know to be true. I'm not sure if he's attempting to spare my feminine nature out of some kind of chivalry, or to conceal motivations that still animate his actions.
I am certain with all of my being that he was a man that most women would drop everything to be near, even just for a short while. He dripped with a raw male beauty, an on-top-of-the-world, devil-may-care attitude, a lifestyle fueled by success, a mind as quick as a whip.
Even now, when he talks, he calls me “Baby,” in a lazy, sexy, slow way, rolling it around on his tongue with a silky smooth tone that reminds me of cigars and cedar, chocolate with cinnamon, and makes me feel suddenly weak in the knees. He winks, watching my emotions flicker across my face like they always do; I'm a heart-on-my-sleeve type of woman. He knows the effect he has on me, which pleases him, and the corner of his mouth twitches up suggestively.
And there, looking into his eyes, I realize that the very life essence of this man is so powerful that it temporarily caused me to forget that his gorgeous, strong body is now really frail and small and stooped; that his lovely long, slender fingers can no longer grasp anything, not even to feed his own mouth; that his tall, magnificent frame cannot leave the couch where he sits until I walk over and plant my feet as hard as I can, letting him grip my shoulders to hoist himself up, afraid I might drop him, glad I've been working out lately. I forget that his eyes, that crackle and twinkle with fire and look at me as if he wants to take a bite out of me, are now blind enough that he cannot drive or read, and will soon be completely dim.Do you think you have the picture now? Probably not though.
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