He quickly shushed Anna. “Did you hear that?” Carl normally acted superstitious. He was a little too wary around phones, world knows why. Maybe it was the grumbling about “too much technology”. Unfortunately for him there were many phones in the world.

He wasn’t crazy, he was just a little more lost than he was 50 years ago. He really was a dear, giving hugs and rubbing his glasses fondly. He forgot what he had for breakfast but he remembered my birthday a couple weeks ago. He normally forgets the date and yet, today, September 28, he stares at the wall.

“Married me wife years ago today,” Carl said this morning. His face was wistful, or maybe Anna mistook it for grief. She took his gnarled hand and squeezed slightly.

He turned to her but stopped. His eyes darted and he squinted. “You hearing this?”

“No. What’s it sound like?”

“Sounds like a newborn. Prepared to wreak havoc, that one.” Carl mumbled then cringed. “I’m old but I know me gut. This one… aye, she’s got pipes.”

Anna smiled curiously. She felt gateful and a touch humored. Carl managed to sense a newborn’s cry in the world but not a doorbell. Her days with these seniors were erratic but they had such stories and lives and tidbits about themselves to tell. They taught her that every story is compiled into a big memory book and to utter it is meaningful.