Except for Gloria.
Gloria was eighty-two, stubborn, sharp-minded, and somehow able to make everyone around her smile without even trying. How-To,DIY & Expert ContentThe first time I brought her breakfast tray, she looked me up and down and said, “You’re new. But you don’t move like someone new. You’ve been carrying trays your whole life, haven’t you?”
I laughed. “Something like that. I’m Daniel.”
“Well, Daniel,” she said, patting the chair beside her bed, “sit for a minute. Tell me about yourself.”
No one had asked me that in years.
From that morning on, it became our routine. I brought Gloria tea after my shift, and she told me stories about growing up on a farm, about her late husband, and about dancing in the kitchen when the radio played the right song.
