It gets harder and harder for me to thread needles…..
When I was a kid, everyday after school, I would visit my grandmother who lived upstairs from us. Sometimes she would ask me to thread needles so she could sew the runs in her stockings. She was a widow by then so the thread was always black. I was glad to thread her needles because it gave me something to do. When I was done I would stick them in the back cushion of the couch. I would stay only long enough to thread the needles and when I left she would say “Hello, goodbye” in her thick Italian accent. It was never long enough for her.