tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7618276.post110263518896780308..comments2024-03-14T05:19:03.379-05:00Comments on Koranteng's Toli: Frank and Frances (or 500 Steps)Korantenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05280138409675883100noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7618276.post-1116505942995089502005-05-19T07:32:00.000-05:002005-05-19T07:32:00.000-05:00I hope that when I get to 90, I find a young man w...I hope that when I get to 90, I find a young man willing to walk me down to the lab.<BR/>Thank you and once in a while, please simply go up to her apartment and say hi.<BR/>But the truth is I dread the thought of growing old, indeed, I pray I do not get there... but when is a good age to go? 60?, 70? or is it 50? In which case I am late already.<BR/>All I want to say really is Thank You for walking Frances down.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7618276.post-1105100193873215312005-01-07T06:16:00.000-06:002005-01-07T06:16:00.000-06:00I found your site on the Rich Internet App trail,
...I found your site on the Rich Internet App trail,<br />but I kept reading. You write well, and humanely about<br />important things. This post has triggered me to respond<br />because this is what my mother does. Visits, spends time, <br />listens and remembers old people. Family, or family of family.<br />Grasps at the stories like leaves fluttering past. They're a<br />direct line to a different world, but she can't really transmit<br />what they tell her. The intonations and glances go away. The <br />thing is, everyone must do it for themselves. Instead old <br />people are marooned on an island, we speed away into the future, blindly.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com