Shuffle. Step. Shuffle. Step. Shuffle. Step. The old woman eases down the hallway one careful step after another, the constant dance with her tennis-ball-footed walker part of the routine. Oh, the dreaded routine.
Skip breakfast because it’s not served after 9:00. And who wants to get up early for a day filled with the same nothing-to-do schedule? Buzz for help to go to the bathroom. It’s not the going that’s the issue. But pulling her pants up while holding onto the grab bar isn’t something she can do anymore.
There are so many things she can’t do anymore. So many things she misses. It’s a waiting game now. There’s still family to live for, but for how long? Each day is a tick box marked off. One more down. Not as many to go.