...
Or rather, pushing him.
It was an overly crowded street, it was even more difficult with the rain brought about by the typhoon.
The passerby were too pre-occupied with their lives, people did not noticed.
Raindrops seeped through my blouse on my back, it was wet and sticky, yet nothing is more important than preventing him to catch a cold which could have brought about catastrophic effect .
“Sorry!” I said, for the little accident that hit the heel of the lady in front who gave me a glance.
Too many things going on at once, watch the rain, watch his poncho to make sure he is covered, watch the way steering through the streets, not to hit him into anything, watch the traffic, crossing the road that was uneven and occasionally the wheels get stuck, not forgetting his weight due to the physical incapability...
Despite of all the business at that point, the old man’s silhouette pushing him whirling in my mind.
It wasn’t easy.
It was truly difficult somehow, I felt.
It was a mere 15 minutes walk, and I find it so hard.
What’s more, someone more than 60, having to do it day-in-day-out.
Love of a father to a son.
Sometimes I do wonder, how did they cope?
No, I don't only meant these 2, but the rest.
Taking care of someone who needed help every now and then is a challenge.
It is just beyond imagination, on how much effort one has to put in.
We do and can get off work, but what about them?
