![]() ![]() I suppose it has most resembled a blue-chip stock: fairly stable, more ups than downs, and gradually trending upward over time. It has not been the rip-roaring spectacular I fancied it would be, but neither have I burrowed around with the gophers. I wonder if this is how it is for everyone my age. Eighty years, I think sometimes, and despite my own acceptance of my age, it still amazes me that I haven’t been warm since George Bush was president. It clicks and groans and spews hot air like a fairy-tale dragon, and still my body shivers with a cold that will never go away, a cold that has been eighty years in the making. The thermostat in my room is set as high as it will go, and a smaller space heater sits directly behind me. I’m a sight this morning: two shirts, heavy pants, a scarf wrapped twice around my neck and tucked into a thick sweater knitted by my daughter thirty birthdays ago. The sun has come up and I am sitting by a window that is foggy with the breath of a life gone by. Who am I? And how, I wonder, will this story end? You made this a wonderful experience for me, and I’m glad to call you my friend. Thank you for your wisdom, your humor, and your good-hearted nature. I will be forever grateful for everything you’ve done. ![]() Thank you for your kindness, your patience, and the many hours you have spent working with me. To Theresa Park, the agent who plucked me from obscurity. This story is what it is today because of two special people, and I would like to thank them for everything they’ve done. ![]()
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