“Remember when we first brought her, how hard that was," says Leslie, my mom.
My mom, my brother, and I stand in an empty lot on Moffet Street in Joplin. It probably doesn’t seem like a particularly sentimental scene: a man in a ball cap is mowing the grass, the sun is shining; We’re just three people standing there in our shorts, shading our eyes from the sun.
“We left her here and she kept saying, ‘when are you going to come back," mom remembers.
Six years ago, we moved our 85-year-old Aunt Geneva from our home in Joplin to a nursing home called Greenbrier.