At the same time, my dad was terminally ill with cancer, and a few months earlier my parents had moved from their lake house into the city to be close to the clinic for his treatments. Soon after, we had discovered Dad suffered from Alzheimer’s. By now he was living in a memory care unit (secured environment) just blocks from Mom. She knew she would not want to live in their house alone, so we had been trying to get it ready to sell. My brother, during one visit to Texas, had taken Mom to the house so she could retrieve all the clothing she wanted to keep, for herself and for Dad. (These two story lines converge; I promise.)