when the dark clouds roll in

I had to go to the doctors office today.

I had a morning appointment - 10am.

I had been in and out of that office numerous times over the past couple of weeks with the kids. Now it was my turn.

My usual doctor was away on vacation, so I really just had to see whomever was available. I had never been to this doctor before.

It was a man.

When I got there, I was kept waiting but a minute before a hollow voice called my name and I was ushered into his office. Inside, the energy, the silence, the view...it was all really quite grim.

There at the door, stood a tall stooping rail of a man; simple gold rimmed glasses were poised at the end of a long straight nose. His skin sagged on his solemn face with about as much life as an animal skin draped over a tanners rail. His eyes nestled softly in their sockets, though without one glimmer of joy, not one ray of light nor sparkle of hope, shining forth. The eye lids drooped sleepily, as if they just wished to shut forever.

And upon his face was etched a narrow line of a mouth, which mumbled a determined indolence in not having to express anything other than the necessary- they being words. For his mouth noted neither token smile or disapproval. Like an oafish teenager upon a three-seater lounge suite, it simply refused to move any more than it had to...it just lay there across the lower portion of his face, full of contempt and resignation; bitterness and gloom.

This man was not a grumpy Dr Becker by any means. He was professional in his mannerisms, he listened to what I had to say and prescribed the necessary cure-all, but this man, was such a miserable sight; a rumpled, heart broken-like creature; a man that appeared so entirely closed, that it seemed he had given up the quest for tenderness and retracted his once quivering outstretched pleading hand, retiring it from all such pursuits... with regrets.

I watched him type up the prescription, half his left ring finger was missing....

What had fate delivered him over the course of a lifetime to have reaped the appearance of such bitter fruit? Perhaps it was a recent calamity that had left this man so dishevelled. Perhaps I had simply caught him on an extremely bad day. I hope so, but somehow I think not.

At the end of my appointment, I put on a cheery voice and thanked him for his time with much gratitude and energy, but neither gestures moved him to make even the slightest indication of a smile...not even the kind we give in acknowledgement or just in order to be polite....he simply could not muster it, the apparent heaviness in his heart and dark cloud over his head were too much to bare without the added burden of such superficial formalities.

Who nurtures the nurturers when they are down? I believe we all need someone....we DO all need someone.