The cruel math of finding a nursing home for my father
by Susanna Schrobsdorff
Nov 27, 2017
2 minutes
My dad was a little vain. Even at 80, he wore clothes with the ease of a man who had always been handsome and slim. When I was a kid, he would often wear ascots and tweedy jackets to drive me to work at the McDonald’s in the tiny rural town next to our tiny rural town.
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