Nell lives on the third step of the home and gives boiled sweets to strangers. They tell her she was a teacher. She shrugs and asks, “Who?”
The photo on the website didn’t show the many steps leading down to the cabin. With trepidation I began my descent, aging yet adventurous.
He repeated his name for her, but she simply stared ahead, motionless. He watched their past disintegrate behind her eyes.
Grandma got run over by a bus and I can’t stop thinking about that stupid song.
The rest home was like grade school: Needed permission for the bathroom, to stay up, to eat what she wanted. Thus, Pearl threw a tantrum.
Karen felt sucked into the tornado of her own To-Do list and knew she would be happy when she got to the end of it. But at 85, she was not.