My sisters left me to care for our dying dad on my own
It was my father on the line. “Hi, Dad, what’s up?”
“Um, this is going to sound crazy, but — what’s my phone number?”
My phone number, he remembered, but his own evaded him that day.
This was better than the day before, when he had called in a panic to inform me that he saw 14 soldiers patrolling outside his window. “But don’t worry, Hannah, I already alerted the Department of Homeland Security.”
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