Allweaskistobeallowedtoremainthewritersofour
ownstory.Thatstoryiseverchanging.Overthecourse
ofourlives,wemayencounterunimaginabledifficulties.
Our concerns and desires may shift. But whatever
happens,wewanttoretainthefreedomtoshapeourlives
in ways consistent with our character and loyalties.
Thisiswhythebetrayalsofbodyandmindthatthreaten
to eraseour character and memory remain amongour
most awful tortures. Thebattle of beingmortal isthe
battleto maintain the integrityof one’slife—to avoid
becomingsodiminishedordissipatedorsubjugatedthat
whoyouarebecomesdisconnectedfromwhoyouwere
orwhoyouwanttobe.Sicknessandoldagemakethe
strugglehardenough.Theprofessionalsandinstitutions
weturntoshouldnotmakeitworse.Butwehaveatlast
entered anerain which anincreasing numberofthem
believetheirjobisnottoconfinepeople’schoices,inthe
nameofsafety,buttoexpandthem,inthenameofliving
a worthwhile life.
LOUSANDERSWASonhiswaytojoiningtheinfantilized
andcatatonic denizensbelted intothewheelchairs ofa
NorthAndovernursinghomewhenacousintoldShelley
about a new place that had opened in the town of
Chelsea, the Leonard Florence Center for Living. She
should checkit out, he said. It was just a shortdrive
away. Shelley arranged for her and Lou to visit.
Louwasimpressedfrom thefirstmomentsofthetour,
when the guide mentioned something Shelley barely
noted.All theroomswere single.Everynursinghome
Louhadeverseenhadsharedrooms.Losinghisprivacy
hadbeenamongthethingsthatscaredhimmost.Solitude