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I Found My 87 Year Old Father Eating Cold Food Alone and Realized How Afraid He Had Become

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laughed like a kid. “I look terrible,” he said. “You look like you,” I answered. That was enough.

We started having small routines. Sunday mornings: coffee and the paper, both of us pretending we were not rereading the same sections. He liked the sports page even though he had not followed a team seriously in years. I liked the crossword, which I was continue reading …

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