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04/04/2004: "Protected"


She came to church on Wednesday. Somebody else was calling me and I went closer, and as I passed, she asked, "Where are you going?" So I turned around and hugged her, and she seemed o bigger than a baby bird in my embrace. She turned 91 last month, has lived alone for four years, since her sister died, and there are long stretches when I don't see her any more. She's frail and forgetful; I can't even imagine the way she must have been, once, when she went everywhere with Mr. Getty. But there's plenty of that toughness still in her, I guess; she manages to get her own way even when it's in her own worst interest. And she seems to have a guardian angel watching over her. I was there to catch her when she slipped on the ice, and instead of a broken hip she ended up with a scuffed shoe. And on Friday, she'd arranged for someone to drive her to the doctor. She was by herself when she fell, but she got prompt attention, and it looks like she'll climb back in the ring for another round.

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