#149264186 / gettyimages.com The old man sat in his favorite easy chair cradling a glass of vodka, neat, and stared ahead at his big screen television, the one that his son had bought him for Christmas, the one he could no longer see. He loved this pocked old chair in the screened-in porch overlooking the par three golf course. For years, it had been a place of great joy for him, for his wife, for the family on the occasions when they came to visit. There were snacks enjoyed here, Sunday barbecues, board game contests with the grandkids. Not anymore. His only company these days was the wind whipping around the autumn trees and the occasional mosquito drunk with the season, unable to fly, weaving around his head. He could hear a mosquito; alas, he could no longer see one. The day had been difficult, he had railed at the children who somehow had become his parents, telling him what to do, how to live. When had this happened? It seemed like only yesterday, h...
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