In 1996, my mother, Phyllis, passed away. The last two years of her life held several hospital stays and an every-lessening level of energy. My responsibilities as her full-time care-giver were minimal – mostly keeping the house clean, taking her places including the grocery store and appointments with her doctors. At 76, she had called me and asked me to try to get a hardship transfer to a nearby facility to help her out. My father, whose eyesight was diminishing because of Macular Degeneration and other vision issues simply refused to admit he couldn’t see well enough to drive any more. She felt the stress of riding with him to town for shopping and medical appointments was aggravating her condition. Her doctors all agreed.