He Told Me to Choose Him or My Dementia-Stricken Father—So I Did

old black-and-white movie.

I heard the front door.

I looked up, confused.

Then my blood ran cold.

I ran to the entryway.

The door was open.

The porch was empty.

“Dad?” I called, stepping outside. “Dad!”

Nothing.

My mind exploded into images—him lost, him frightened, him wandering into traffic, him collapsing on a sidewalk.

I ran barefoot down the driveway, yelling continue reading …