Words for Seniors Facing Loss
By PAULA SPAN
My father is a relentlessly upbeat guy. “Up and around!†he reports when I call. “Keeping busy!†He tells me about his volunteer work, his card game winnings, the (seated) yoga class he enrolled in at the library. His favorite refrain is, “I can’t complain.†(And yes, yes, yes, my sister and I do know how lucky we are.)
He does tell me about the funerals, though. At 87, watching his peers struggle with the physical and psychological trials of old age, he goes to a lot of them. He keeps losing people he’s known for years — onetime co-workers, senior members of his synagogue, neighbors in his tightly knit apartment building.
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