36.
I feel my heart breaking when we're standing in front of her apartment and she doesn't remember which key works on her front door. I know which one it is but I can't tell her, I can't help her. She stares at them for thirty seconds with a frown on her face.
I feel like the most useless human being on Earth.
She sighs, seemingly in frustration.
"What's wrong?" I say, pretending like I don't know even though it's so obvious.
She turns towards me, her expression telling me she is about to start crying. "I just feel so useless. I have keys here in my hand and I can't remember which one belongs to my door!"
The pink one.
I hold back the words, instead just nod. "I guess I can sort of imagine how frustrating that must be. Why don't you try a couple of them? Eventually you'll find the right one."
"Yeah, I know. I just wish I could remember." She shows me the keys. "See that? There's a car key on there, and I have no idea which is mine!"
The light blue '08 Camry that your dad made sure was fixed completely and put back in the garage a week ago. He took care of everything for you. Paid for the repairs of your car, paid your rent a couple of months ahead, made sure your employer knows everything so you won't lose your job. He made sure you'll be set.
I feel terrible having all the answers for her but not able to share them with her to make it easier.