I drove 190 miles after learning my parents had left Grandma behind. I thought I was simply bringing her home. Then she told me not to call them.

My parents told Grandma Eleanor they were taking her to lunch.

Three hours later, a nursing facility in Ohio called me.

“Is this Daniel Mercer?” the woman asked. “Your grandmother listed you as her emergency contact. Her suitcase is still here in our lobby, but the family members who brought her left before the admission paperwork was finished.”

I was standing in the kitchen of my Indianapolis apartment, holding a cup of coffee I suddenly had no desire to drink.

“What do you mean, they left?”

The administrator hesitated. “They said they had to get some paperwork from their car. They never came back.”

I called my father. It went straight to voicemail.

Then my mother. Same thing.

I drove 190 miles with both hands locked around the steering wheel.