Triumphs of the human spirit

Every day I watch a grey haired man on double crutches make his way out into the surf. His legs are shrivelled and atrofied from whichever disease has afflicted him. Once he reaches the water, he sits down. With his hands he scooches his way back into the sea, lifting his torso and setting himself down a few inches further. He repeatedly throws his cruches back into shallow water when they float back out to him until they get washed up permanently on the sand. I wonder if this well-skilled maneouver is something he can only do when the tide is coming in, rather than going out, otherwise his crutches might get washed out to sea. Abandoning and what looks like throwing his crutches away in disgust, he edges himself out, until the water frees him from gravity, and then i see him swim stronger and freer out to sea than ever. i cry. There he is now... a head bobbing in a glittering sun kissed ocean. Free as any fish or bird.