I watch as their powers slip away. Their walking is slower and less secure. Shoulders are rounded, posture bent. Once in a while they search their memory for the names of people and places as they speak. They do not hear or see as well as they used to–and these are the well ones. Others have cancer or full-blown Alzheimer’s. Some are on dialysis or ten daily medications. Some we don’t see anymore as they are tucked away somewhere in a nursing home.

These are the old–and I am one of them. We watch each other, note the slipping of powers, thank God for what we have left and pray for the grace to accept the inevitable onslaught of advancing age.
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