Carmen The Butcher

I met Carmen in Rock Steady Boxing, a program for people with Parkinson’s. She passed away and these are my thoughts.

CARMEN THE BUTCHER

No, her legs didn’t let her move the way she used to,

but in that chair she found a way to fight,

A push, a flicker of energy,

A look, a warning or a comfort.

Somehow, struggle became a kind of light for her,

a torch others could follow.

Carmen the butcher, she started strong,

grew stronger as life threw more at her.

Some days, her hands barely lifted,

her body tired, but something inside kept the darkness at bay.

Courage wasn’t about movement;

it was what pulsed steady and quiet beneath her skin.

Hope was always there,

patient, a constant shadow that didn’t startle

but steadied her breath and pressed fear down.

She’s gone now, beyond where we can reach,

but something of her remains;

the way warmth lingers after a fire dies,

the way conviction hums even in absence.

Carmen is still here in laughter and the music of ordinary moments,

in the way people remember her strength and carry it quietly onward,

a signal that doesn’t fade.

Whatever else changes,

her presence glows, persistent and unmistakable,

guiding us forward.