My Little Neighbor Did Not Let Anyone Into His Home Until a Police Officer Arrived and Stepped Inside!

At ninety-one years old, I had gradually made my peace with the prospect of an unremarkable exit. My life had become a series of quiet loops: the rhythmic ticking of the hallway clock, the blue light of the television on my face, and the occasional frozen dinner that tasted more like cardboard than sustenance. My husband has been gone for decades, and my children—once the center of my universe—had long since drifted into the peripheral orbits of their own lives. At first, there were visits; then there were calls; then there were texts. Eventually, there was only the hollow ache…