Thank you D’andre.” I reply.I am put through my normal exercises. I don’t believe that any of this is helping, not one damn bit. Yet, I do them ...nyways. Why? Because I don’t want D’andre to see me not try.As we come to the end of my therapy, I’m happy to see D’andre waiting for me.He hands me a towel, so I may wipe my face from the sweat that has formed from all the hard work.He takes control of my chair, moving me outside of the therapy building into their flower garden.“D’andre, may I ask you. I know there had to be others but I didn't know any. "Thanks Uncle Deacon, but I could never afford that car. It is only four years old and a convertible." True David but it's a damn Ford, and not even the pretty fifty-seven. I bought the ugliest Ford ever made. I bought the fifty-eight Ford fairlane. Deacon was right it was ugly as hell, but it was a convertible."Still I know it must have cost two grand, at least." Not really the guy owed me a favor." Still Uncle Deacon, I just don't have. More

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