“It’s kind of spooky,” Maga said. The nighttime. The loneliness. The new location she calls home. I understood. That monster they call loneliness eats away at you.
“First time I’ve ever been alone,” she said. “First, there was Jobo. Then the caregivers. I guess I’ve got to learn how to be a grown up.”
“Me too!”
“You’re how old?”
“35.”
“I’m 95, you know.”
“I guess I’ve got a long way to go if you’re still trying to figure it out. Any words of advice?”
“Be strong and brave. You’ll get through it if you’re doing that.”
Her voice may have been unsteady, but her words were not. And she was right. The nighttime. The loneliness. We’ll get through it.
Abigail Mumford 
Wow, this is one of my favorites. Such a great picture of Maga and your spirit.
Oh, thank you! Your comments mean so much!
I love this post Abs. You do such a great job capturing her. I hate that she has loneliness now. And that you do. Can’t wait to be up in Boston and see you! I love you!
I do so enjoy my chats with her! Can’t wait to see your faces soon!!
I didn’t realize Maga moved. I’m glad she has you to talk to when she feels lonely. My grandfather hated moving into an assisted living place. His roommate was a Yankees fan.
She moved on on July 1 and is not happy about it. She does have her own space, though, and so doesn’t have to deal with the hardship of a Yankees-fan roommate. *shudders*