aunt mame

LETTER from JIM ATWELL No Need For A Brick How’d it happen? Suddenly it’s 2020, I’m 82, twice a widower, living in a comfortable assisted living home. Well cared-for. But, essentially, alone. The pandemic has us 18 residents quarantined, even from one another. Lots of time alone in one’s room, even with meals brought to us on trays. Just now, however, despite prescribed aloneness, I have kept my room crowded with vividly remembered adults; ones who, because or in spite…