Can you taste the peaches?
I think I can.
I know what they mean by ripe old age. When Nana gets bumped she bruises right away. She cries “Ouch!” and a dark splotch wells up under her skin.
Past ripe is rotten. Part of her went bad and they cut it off. She takes medicines to keep it from getting in her bones, to keep them from getting too soft. Already though there’s another lump. But she won’t let them cut the new bad spot out until Grandpa’s gone. He can hardly breathe, so they’re giving him more morphine. He’s skinnier than a junkie already.