I ARRIVED AT MY PARENTS’ modest town house the night before they were to be evicted. My father, wandering through the empty rooms upon which he had just foreclosed, said to no one in particular, “All this loss.” He repeated, dumbstruck, and referring to more than the house, “All this loss.” I loaded him and my mother into her lavender Toyota and drove them toward a new place to live, hoping that I was restoring them to a way to live, as well. Sternly, I told them, “You have spent enough time losing your home. Tomorrow you gain one.”
The problem my parents faced was that they had felt unhinged for too long; they had lost their peace of mind and sense of place in the world. Jobs and friends ...