a line to say I'm living, that I'm not among the dead; Though I'm getting
more forgetful, and all mixed up in my head.
I got used
to my Arthritis; To my dentures I'm resigned. I can manage my Bifocals
but dear God I miss my mind. For sometimes I can't remember, when I stand
at the foot of the stairs if I must go up for something or have I just
come down from there?
a time, when it iis dark I stop and hold my head. I don't know if
I'm retiring, or am I getting out of bed? So if it is my turn to
write to you, there's no need of getting sore. I may think that I
have written, and don't want to be a bore.
that I love you and wish that you were near. But now it's nearly mail time,
so must say "goodbye dear." Here I stand before the mail box with
a face so very red. Instead of mailing you a letter, I went and opened