His hands trembled and his eyesight blurred,
His step faltered, only his hearing endured.
He ate with the family, best time of his day,
Enjoyed laughter and chatter, it made him feel gay.
His failing sight and shaking hands, eating a bit of a chore,
His dishes slipped, and fell and broke, and landed on the floor.
His son brought him a wooden bowl, his food was served in there,
A messy eater, who couldn’t be neater, and felt their angry glare.
His son set him a tiny table, and the old man sat alone,
No longer part of the family, worst time he’d ever known.
The four year old watched anxiously, “There is something I must do,
Buy two wooden bowls, for when you are old, so you can sit with grandpa too.”
The words made the Parents speechless and brought tears to their eyes,
They were instilling in their son for the future, a way that was not wise.
They tenderly took the old man’s hand and brought him back to their table,
And for the rest of his days, in all ways, let him do what he was able.