I retired at seventy, bought a cake, and went home to celebrate with my family. My suitcases were on the porch and the front door was locked. Something was wrong.
I worked at this hospital for 38 years. Faces changed, managers came and went. Even the hospital's name changed once or twice. But I stayed.
Not because I had to. Because if not me, who would have done it?

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At home, I had my team: my son Thomas, his wife Delia, and my two grandchildren, Ben and Lora. We all lived under the same roof. My roof.
But I never considered it a favor.