Growing old

We went to the old folks home yesterday. Chatted with two old folk. An elderly lady and an old man. The lady was really nice. I'm a bit creeped out by the man who kept getting me to feel his non existent biceps.

But what was in common was both reminiscing about their younger days and what they were then able to do. Now both are wheelchair bound.   Their stories are of the days when they used to do multiple no. When they supported their families. When they had the respect of people.

For the lady .. her name is papa ramasamy. She was a nurse. Used to live in a bungalow at 6th avenue. Has 10 kids and 13 grandkids. Was praised for her job by a white lady boss. Was invited to London but turned it down because her hubby cried that he couldn't manage the 10 kids himself.

For the guy.. He worked three jobs. Carried steel. Ran played badminton sports. He thinks he looks 30! He looks 50 plus or 60. He's 68.

I like that lady. She referred to me as her daughter. They just like having people to talk to. To have their lives matter.