That's what I'll call them. My friend Robert--err, Pete, as most know him--has started a series of little reflections and accompanying photos of some seniors in an assisted living facility. His grandmother is there now, and Pete's taken to getting to know her co-residents. The series is shaping up into a touching and dignified--and sometimes funny--account of these different, wise, and wizened lives, near the end of their time. He's got these slices of life of lives that are mostly forgotten these days. If you check it out, try to read them all, as the effect is cumulative, and there are some sterling impromptu portraits further down. Start at the top (as of today) and just scroll down. Hopefully he'll keep this up. Go and look and encourage him. It's a worthy look in at something we mostly miss I think.

I myself have had no experience with such homes. Both my parents lived out their years in their house, although my father spent many years in and out of the hospital. Now THAT's a place I know all too well. Cedars Sinai almost felt like a second home. Some years later, when Brock fell out of a tree and I was back at Cedars, it was deja vu.

Thanks for the link, bud.