Help My Senior

Searching for life's answers to aging

Mom’s Arthritis: a Quiet Lesson in Growing Old

The Warning in My Mother’s Voice I can still hear my mother’s voice from years ago, slightly exasperated, as she flexed her fingers and winced. “It’s my arthritis again,” she’d say, usually while stirring a pot or folding laundry. Back then, I nodded sympathetically...

A Car Ride and a Broken Soul

Some people never seem to be at peace with themselves Some years ago, I had a friend—let’s call him William. He was a quiet soul, the kind of person who sat on the edges of a conversation rather than stepping into its center. We were both part of a Bible study for...