My daughter-in-law laughed as she gave me a $2 scratch-off for my 73rd birthday. Ten months later, my own son shoved a senior living brochure in front of me and said, “We already picked your room.” They thought I was too old to fight back. They had no idea what I had been hiding.
The new year brought a letter from Oakridge Estates addressed to me.
It was a polite follow-up about the January placement Colin and Jessica had reserved.
The deposit was refundable, and the facility wanted to know whether I wished to schedule a tour.
I called the director myself.
“I won’t be moving in,” I said.
“But I’d like to ask you something.
How do you make sure prospective residents actually want to live there?”
She sounded genuinely troubled when I explained the circumstances.
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