I can’t keep track of time.
I can’t tell you what day it is.
I spend my time mostly in my desk rocking chair, thinking about what?
Mostly I think of Betty and the 80 years we spent together.
I miss holding her hand.
She always wore rubber gloves when she did dishes (I cleared the table and cleaned up, sometimes did the cooking).
On some Saturdays, we invited our family and friends to a “Waffle” breakfast.
My secret formula was that I put handfuls of crushed walnuts in the batter.
Served with yogurt and raisins (sometimes sliced bananas) they were “the best.”
“Those were the days.”
We outlived all of our friends.
When Betty passed away, I became a survivor. How long I will last, no one knows.
As long as I can, I will keep going.
(May 8, 2021)