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The days of springing up out of a chair have passed.
The days of sleeping well through the night have passed.
The days of hearing well have passed.
The days walking without pain have passed.
The days of walking without aid have passed.
The days of breathing have passed.

For everything on its way to death, there's always a last day for everything it used to do.

Someday we'll have our last damookster post, and we'll have our last aerocontrols post, and we won't know it until years afterward.

Or Ben will finally flip the switch and we'll go out like a careless pedestrian who steps out in front of a bus.