“You can ask for records because they’re yours to understand.”

I gave Harriet information about a local senior-services organization that could explain available assistance.

I didn’t try to decide whether her grandson was trustworthy.

I had learned that guessing was a poor substitute for records.

When I got home, I found a postcard from my old factory friend Evelyn, who’d moved to Michigan years earlier.

She wrote that she was coming through Ohio in the fall and hoped we could have lunch.

I almost laughed at how quickly my world was filling with ordinary plans.