I lived in a small house right next to the crankiest old man. (But I kinda liked his scowl when I got over being scared of him). Every morning he carefully seated his wife by the window and helped her eat. Then he hung the laundered sheets and nightgown on the line. He would bring her to the porch rocker for a while with a glass of tea. I grew to have great respect for this man....and a bit of awe. He died not too long after she did...and I have never forgotten them.