An Old Woman

She watched the children playing across the street and sighed sadly. It had been years since she had been able to run like they were doing now. Her joints had stiffened over the years, arthritis making a permanent home in her body. And her heart had been weakened by too many years of loving and losing.
Wincing at the pain in her back and knees, she pushed herself out of her porch rocker. Shuffling slowly to the front door, an ironic smile crossed her face as she thought about her rusty screen door and how it made the same noise when opened as her shoulder made when she moved to open the door.
She laughed to herself as she began the laborious climb upstairs. The house was much quieter now that her children were grown and her husband had died. Occasionally the house would be graced by the sound of her grandchildren. Mostly it was graced by the creaks and groans of aging wood and a settling foundation.
Sunlight shone through her bedroom window and onto the bed where she had spent her wedding night. Memories of many similiar nights flew through her head and she laughed once more. How quickly the shyness of the first time had melted into confident amourous encounters.
Slowly, and painfully, her arthritic fingers pulled apart the velcro on the front of her dressing gown. Moving slowly to the bed, she signed with relief as she sat down. She leaned back against the pillows, pulling her feet onto the bed and sighed again. Pulling the coverlet up to her chin, she smiled and closed her eyes for the last time.