Commentary: Birth days, death days
My friend Kath would have turned 60 this week. I only know that because when she was in the hospital last spring, they kept asking for her date of birth before administering medicine, and the answer was 8-12-50. The 8-12 I knew. But to see her, she didn't even look 50, much less 59.
She had a perfect figure, a pert, pretty face, a beautiful smile and gorgeous hair. The last few times I saw her, she was beautiful, even bald. She had a great head.
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