She has old bones. And they hurt. Wrist, elbow, shoulder neck. Hip, knee, ankle, toe. They all hurt.
I give her two Tylenol, and she sleeps. I hear her whimper. “Please,” she whispers. She’s never been able to tell me “Please what?”
Her old bones hurt. Teeth. Fingers. Time makes old bones. Her bones have had too much time.
My bones are starting to hurt too.