I am 80-years-old but my children prefer sending money than paying me a visit

A golden ball of the sun was slowly receding through the Western horizon, illuminating the murky blue clouds. It was always a breathtaking sight to see the dull clouds suddenly becoming achingly beautiful. She never missed out on such evenings that easily let magic fall from the sky with the slenderness of a petal fall. The peace and calmness they brought forced her to wear her innocence like old comfortable shoes. She tried to hold moments like this by taking in deep breaths and trying to hold them, all but in vain. Her mind frantically wavered between bittersweet feeling and joy.

Rebecca was an eighty year old woman who lived in her family home all alone. However, her lithe spirit attracted regular visits from her neighbors’ children to whom she happily shared old tales. She had children of her own but they had stopped calling on her as each of them instead, preferred sending money once in awhile. Of cause, whenever she felt vulnerable and frailty was bringing her to the edge of human hopeless, she wished that her children were there for her.