Description:

The first question that arose after my father's funeral was what would become of my 80-year-old mother?

She was insistent: "I'm not staying with any of my children!"

Since she required more than mere shelter, moving in with one of her three sons wasn't practical, anyway. She needed a "babysitter," someone to check her bags when she got home to ensure she wasn't concealing a bottle of vodka in her purse; someone to make sure she took her medications and ate properly; in short, someone to keep vigil.

That turned out to be me.

Originated on the author's blog, "Vigils" is outrageously funny, heartbreakingly tragic, and true.