I could rant, because my phone died amidst other things. And it was a debacle getting another. But then I look at these photos and it goes away. Just disappears. There are such bigger things than broken phones and mislaid plans. There's so much more. I watched from a distance as this old team still made do. This duo that has had its ups and downs. I watched him brush her hair. I helped her hold an old photo of him with her arthritic hands. Little notes were written on them from when he was far away, "With love," "Hello Precious,"and "To the Sweetest." I stared at her crystal blue eyes and I wondered, what's it like growing old? Having all those memories, some coherent, some not; having so much past, having so much history? Do you recognize yourself from that long ago? Do you wish for it back? And, of course I worried. For them, I tried not to cry. And then I read:
And perhaps it's as simple as that. Not having all the answers, not knowing what's next, but having a friend, family member, or someone in the same boat aging alongside you. Being surrounded by good people you love. That's what pushes you through.