I hate to admit it. When apparently healthy couples of a certain age stroll by hand in hand, I am envious.
The recent outings facilitated by our new weekend aide take some of the sting of my jealousy away. I can get out with my guy. That’s a nice feeling.
We both enjoy being out, and Burt’s memory has been jogged by some of the [once familiar] sights.
That’s gratifying.
Fresh air offers a mood boost, too.
We can both use that!
this is our life 