To Charlotte Miller, the twilight years had always been just a descriptor, but she had never realized how fittingly the words could paint a picture before her eyes.
Grandmother Mary seemed like a candle burning to its last flicker, nearly extinguished, needing no breeze to blow it out, gently fading without light or heat.
Her hair, a faded white, had lost its luster. Charlotte remembered a few years ago, though Grandmother Mary had silver hair, she still looked full of vigor. Now all that had receded far from her, her vitality was being gradually taken away by age and illness.
Charlotte understood Rogers' pain. Rogers had chosen to become a doctor, dedicated to researching treatments for chronic illnesses, yet ultimately he could not heal Grandmother Mary's ailment.
But in truth, there are things even doctors are powerless over, and even without illness, it seemed Grandmother Mary's life had reached its end; aging is humanity's most irresistible and daunting process.
