“It’s hard to get old,” she said.
By the time you understand this, it is always too late.
I wondered again why I put myself through this. The money, yes, but this was not guaranteed, since I was not her only visitor.
To see this woman, once unassailable in every opinion she ever held, daily diminished like a paper doll cut smaller and smaller until all that was left was a distorted shape barely resembling what she once had been, to see this every day, was to be reminded that for all of us, it is merely a matter of time.
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