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

At the market, her name meant precision,

Carmen the butcher, knifesure, steady, proud.

She knew every cut, every weight by heart,

her hands reading bone and sinew like a language of skill and care.

Then Parkinson’s came, quiet but relentless.

It tested every muscle, stole the ease from her movements,

but Carmen didn’t stop, she shifted her ground.

When she couldn’t fight behind the counter,

she fought in the gym, gloves on, heart unyielding.

At Rock Steady Boxing, she found her rhythm again,

each jab, each breath a small rebellion.

The tremor met resistance, the weakness met will.

They called it therapy, but for her it was another kind of work,

the kind that butchered fear clean from the bone.

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

but in that chair, or in the gym she found her strength renewed.

Each motion deliberate, each day a quiet act of defiance.

Her eyes still sharp, still seeing everything.

A push, a flicker of energy,

a look, half warning, half comfort.

She taught everyone around her

that mastery isn’t only in the hands,

but in the spirit that refuses to fade.

the tools she once commanded now heavy with memory,

but even then, she carved out room for grace and light.

Parkinson’s could touch her body,

but never the core of who she was.

Courage wasn’t about movement,

it was what pulsed, steady and fierce, beneath her skin.

Hope was the only thing she never let slip,

a steady hum beneath fatigue and silence,

pressing fear down like a weight she could handle.

She’s gone now, beyond where the market’s hum can reach,

but something of her remains,

the warmth after a flame, the echo of gloves hitting the bag,

the hum of conviction that doesn’t fade.

You still feel her there,

in laughter between aisles, in the rhythm of the knives,

and in every swing, every stance,

someone takes with a little more belief than before.

Whatever else changes,

her presence glows, persistent and unmistakable,

guiding us forward.