Meeting Mr. Trask

  

A dear friend is slowly losing her dad. He has ALS, a horribly cruel disease that is progressively robbing his body of function and to which there is no cure.

I've met him just once, over a year ago. We had joined my friend's family at her home to watch a football game. At that time, he had lost his ability to speak entirely, and he was having quite a lot of difficulty eating.

He smiled at us when we arrived that night; he smiled as he followed the group's conversation while watching the game; he smiled at Madilyn's playing; he smiled when his children answered his questions written on the dry-erase board he used to communicate.

He smiled though he faced a medically hopeless prognosis;
he smiled though he was surrounded by people enjoying health like he never would again;
he smiled though his basic abilities had been taken from him;
he smiled though each moment brought further decline.

He couldn't speak to introduce himself, but he told me so much about the person he is.