More images from Dad’s essay on the Old Folk Home. When we are young we love passionately, daringly. When we are old, tenderness and faithfulness define our love.
She kept her room dark, I don’t know why. She was odd but I liked her immensely. Her birds were the great loves of her life.
He was always alone and always outside in the yard. My Dad told me he wanted to escape. I feared he might climb that fence, but I suppose he never did. I was very sorry for him. These scans were made from photographs printed a half century ago.