Last Letter to the Old Man
The post originally on slate for publishing today veered into Wholesale Rewrite City. So here’s a timely topic for today. Cheers, MM
I saw you on the street today. At least I thought it was you.
Photo via Unsplash / Gerard Moonen
Seems you’d just been to the pharmacy and had your walker cane in your right hand. With the other you had a suitcase in tow, atop of which rested your purchases in a plastic bag.
You really struggled to keep walking onward.
I wondered about your home—was anyone waiting there for you? Or are you still living alone?
Have you solved the riddle of relationships, or do they still confound you?
I’m guessing you’re at least 75 years old, so that means you’ve got 20 years on me. Hopefully your memory is as sharp as ever. But if it isn’t, there are always those diaries and journals you’ve kept most of your life, right?
Your maternal grandfather kept a log of his day’s events. He lived to 95…
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