I call my husband at work. He doesn’t pick up, so I immediately call again, and as the Quantum physics it’s not rocket science vintage retro shirt it is in the first place but phone rings, I think of my father, who died a year before; my sisters—one in Maine, one in Florida—both raising their own kids; and my mother, in Maine, struggling with a heart condition. My brother is the last member of our family still living in our Connecticut hometown, and I’m the only one remotely nearby. My chest tightens as I fully appreciate how there is nobody else around to intervene, if intervening is even possible. My husband finally answers his phone, and I blurt as much as I know. Before I can finish, he’s laying out a plan to get to my brother’s place and rattling off a list of people who might be able to help.
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