Dignity Isn’t a Countdown: When “Safety” Starts Feeling Like Control

cream swirl like a small storm.

“That’s exactly what you’re trying to do,” I said quietly. “You’re just doing it nicely.”

Denise opened her tote bag like she was opening a gift.

She pulled out a small device shaped like a button.

“You wear this,” she said. “If you fall, you press it. It calls for help.”

“No,” I said.

Her eyebrows jumped. “Why not?”

“Because continue reading …