Wow, those first four sentences hooked me in. Thank you.
Imagine this: within the span of a few short years, you go from using a cane, to a walker to a wheelchair. Your tremors become so bad that you can’t write your name legibly or feed yourself with a fork.
The years go by, and eventually your husband can no longer lift you from the wheelchair to the bed, so (after attempting to hire help, which never worked well and was too expensive) you divorce, to save him from losing the business you had worked for YEARS to build; and you go to a nursing home.
You have half a room, one dresser, and a hospital bedstand on wheels. You wait until your roommate dies so you can have the bed by the window.
You are 49 years-old.
You live there for 23 years, and then someone else gets the bed by the window.
Now imagine being that woman’s daughter.
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