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

added, “It would give us peace of mind.”

And there it was again.

Not my peace.

Theirs.

I stood up slowly. My knees protested, because they’re eighty-one years old and dramatic about it. I walked to the window and looked out at my porch, my hydrangeas, my familiar world.

Then I turned around.

“Let me ask you something,” I said. “If I were eighty-one and male,continue reading …