Mr. D.J.

He plays 50's music on a small city's
community radio station
in the tradition of the old time
radio personalitites -
larger than life,
the life of the party,
master of ceremonies
always up
and never down.

This morning
in between up beat songs
he announced that the tubes
had been taken out of his wife
and that she was now breathing on her own.

He thanked his audience for their prayers.
He said that they were working.
He exhorted us to "keep it up".

What was it in his tone of voice
that provided the small jolt of inspiration?

Was it courage?
Showmanship?
Faith?

I know it's wrong to ask,
but does he believe it?

Is it real?

Or is it putting on a brave face
to mask the hard stuff - doubt,
fear, despair?

I don't know why
I need to know.