My parents were married for more than seventy years. Seventy. They raised their children on very little and gave away most of what they had. Whatever any of us managed to become, we became because of them.
As they reached the end of their lives, they both asked for the same thing. Not a hospital. Not a facility. They wanted to remain in their own home, in the rooms they knew, with their own chairs and their own windows.
We said yes, the way families do — quickly, and without fully understanding what we had promised.

