In the Spirit of Love

Every three months, John and his wife Peaches arrived at my V.A. Infectious Disease clinic for medication refills, and to check on the lingering bone infection in John’s hip. An injury from shrapnel in WW II had caused incurable osteomyelitis that tormented him daily. Peaches was his tireless caregiver.

The couple always came bearing a small gift for me. A Bartlett pear from one of their trees, a fresh-baked brownie, a jar of strawberry preserves. With her notepad in hand to jot down information, Peaches never stopped asking if there was anything that could be done about John’s pain.

During their appointments, however, neither of them ever stopped smiling. And when they left, John always told me the same thing. He would salute the makeshift American flag taped to the IV pole of his wheelchair, and say, “You know, Nurse, I’d do it all over again.” Then Peaches would add with a wink: “And so would I.”