Recently I discovered an old trove of writings and poems I created during the early days of my family practice.
They survived on the hard drive of an otherwise obsolete computer.
I’m going to share some from the vault, sprinkled among my present articles.
Watching My Grandfather Watching the Sky
My grandfather was a country doctor, and somewhat of a local legend. Grown men would introduce themselves at small town July 4th parades, shaking the knobbed hands that once delivered them safely into the world. Women would drop off baskets from their gardens, full of bright green peppers and juicy red tomatoes, living products of the earth which in a way symbolized the regeneration he aimed to effect. He served as a naval doctor in the Pacific Fleet of WWII. But towards the end of his life I would sometimes find him sitting by himself, in a comfortable chair in the shade of the old barn behind his home, in contemplation. Like many retiring men of his great generation, he could peacefully watch the clouds and the world go by for hours.
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