My Son Brought A Nursing Home Brochure To My Birthday Dinner And Thought I Would Break

the second time. The medication doses I took each morning, photographed with my phone before I swallowed them, so that no one could tell me I had missed a day. The casserole. The electric bill. Every small thing that might have been attributed to aging, documented, time-stamped, precise.

Marjorie Bell had helped me install the small camera. She was continue reading …