Peggy Hassinger

His robust size is jammed into the large dark nylon trunks showing the protrusion of his colostomy bag. On his torso are often bright colored golf shirts that always seem to have traces of something just eaten down the front of them. On his swollen gigantic feet, gray yarn moccasins are stretched to their limit imprinting bands of indentation several inches above his ankles. His bare legs, discolored and severely parched, sometimes lose dry skin flakes that float to the floor, a floor he can no longer stand on. Severe arthritis has stolen his ability to walk.

Now, look up toward his face. Take in the details of him, details that impale your senses. His silvery hair looks lopsided, probably from the infrequent haircuts he gives himself. His skin is slightly tanned from painful brief outings to the exercise pool. Look at his boyish but practiced mouth, one that can dazzle you with information - or just a smile. A smile that could fool you into believing he is younger and healthier. Connect with his eyes. Eyes that sparkle with impishness or treasured memories. Eyes that saw his daughter drown, his country in war and his sizeable family disperse to unusual places around the world. Though his body has conceded to being in a weathered leather recliner, his mind crackles with magical expression. Where does a day trader, a small business leader, a storyteller get these most engaging ways to express his spirit? You can't tell by just looking but you can when you listen.

His stories often begin with "I have probably told you this before" but I never tire of hearing his unique weave of words. Customized with his perspective and discrimination, his stories bring to light those who are invisible in their ordinariness. Stories about when he could heartily whoop any hand ball competitors, stories of meeting FDR, stories that have a secret enchantment, stories that can bring a tear to his eye. With mental discipline, some stories are memorized and repeated time and again, like Dangerous Dan McGrue. Some stories of times long past just flow like they might have happened last week. He can talk passionately about everyday life or conduct a rough and hearty disagreement that is never an even exchange. And, should the content be outstanding, or particularly clever, you can observe his quirky mannerism of quickly slapping his crotch as he belly laughs with you.

Though his life is now lived in severe arthritic pain from minimal essential movement, his courage and humor are astounding. It's inspiring. It's enjoyable. It's impressive. He has a gracious acceptance not at all proportional to his challenges - but he works his magic anyway.

So, he advises, "Go make a lot of memories, because, one day, that's all you'll have".