An Argument for Nursing Homes

About 12 years ago I lived in a loft next to my landlord's office. He lived with his mother who had Altzheimer's and when he came to work he'd leave her outside in his truck with the windows cracked. Sometimes for a couple of hours. You're probably thinking oh, that's horrible. I did too, until I went to chitchat with her a couple of times and each time she'd start the conversation with a variation of "That nigger stole my purse". After that I didn't really question what he did with her.

He was always in a rotten mood. I would hear him sometimes through the kitchen wall. I could hear him let out a groan and say "I don't care", each word a sentence by itself, in a voice that sounded simultaneously perplexed and enraged.