I was hanging with Willie in assisted living. 

That was when the staff on the independent living side of the Temple of Doom asked to speak with me. 

It’s not every day that your mom gets herself in trouble in a building she doesn’t even live in.  

But then Willie isn’t your everyday mom. 

Given that Willie moved to assisted living because she tried walking home a mile in the dark, the assisted living staff outfitted her with an alert bracelet the day she transitioned to their care. 

That alert bracelet locks doors if Willie tries leaving assisted living.  

It’s dramatic. An alarm sounds, lights flash, and the doors lock tight. 

Willie was told if she stayed put, eventually the assisted living staff would do away with the bracelet. 

“I’ll be good. I promise!” Willie said. 

Look. I don’t want to debate the humanity of elder care. 

Because elder care is full of indignities. Mostly necessary, but indignities all the same. 

Besides. Daily, Willie told anyone in earshot the insignificance of that walk home.  

Sometimes, she walked home because no one walks anymore. When she was a kid, in Mayfair, people walked all the time. She was just trying to get back to walking.  

For, I think, the good of humanity everywhere. 

For weeks, we heard how it wasn’t a long walk. How the entire route had a sidewalk. How the entire route actually didn’t have a sidewalk, so she crossed to the other side where there was a sidewalk. How it wasn’t dark. How it wasn’t cold. 

Yeah. 

Willie really earned every inch of that alert bracelet. 

But Willie was also true to her word. She never tried leaving assisted living. 

The assisted living staff eventually reached out. Willie’s friends — both on the assisted living side and the independent living side — often walk the Temple of Doom grounds. The staff wanted to remove the bracelet, allow Willie to walk outside with her friends. 

Yes. I’ve seen Blow, in which Johnny Depp’s George Jung goes to prison for marijuana dealing, only to get released and introduce cocaine to Western civilization. 

But I don’t think the Temple of Doom staff have seen that particular film. 

Because as soon as that bracelet was off, Willie routinely made her way over to the independent living side of the building. 

Once there, she’d corner the staff, demand she be allowed to move back. 

When they told her that wasn’t possible, she went around the building to her friends’ apartments, telling them how the independent living staff kicked her out of independent living. 

This prompted her friends in independent living to plead Willie’s case to the independent living staff. 

When that tactic failed, my maternal Charles Manson enlisted her Family, er, friends in assisted living. They’d walk over to the independent living building en masse with Willie.  

When I told my husband this story, he hunched over and snapped his fingers, à la the Jets and Sharks in West Side Story. 

Together, Willie and her Insane Clown Posse would go floor to floor, telling any resident wandering about how the Temple of Doom had kicked her out. That she was just taking a walk. 

The staff reminded Willie Temple of Doom rules prohibited her from being on the independent living side of the building. 

One day, Willie again showed up at independent living. When the staff reminded her of the rules, Willie told them she’d been invited by one of their residents. 

Who promptly denied the invitation. 

Now, the independent living staff feel their resident was probably fibbing about proffering that invitation. 

But I’m here to tell you Willie absolutely maneuvered that friend. Her memory might be poor, but her intelligence is all there. 

Worse, that friend’s apartment is on the ground floor of the Temple of Doom. But Willie headed straight for the elevators. 

This prompted the staff to leap in front of the elevators. 

“I’m sorry,” they later told me. “But we yelled at her.” 

Which you have to do with Willie. If Willie senses weakness, she’ll play you like she’s Yo-Yo Ma and you’re her cello. 

So I was tasked with telling Willie she couldn’t go to independent living anymore. 

Yes. I contemplated faking my own death. 

But also, I was kind of rooting for her. 

“You can’t go over there,” I told Willie. 

“I only went over once,” Willie huffed. 

When I told Willie the staff said it was a daily occurrence, she said they were lying. But like a bad conspiracy theory, I saw no reason for this supposed lie and told Willie so. 

“Well, they kicked me out,” Willie sneered petulantly. 

I told Willie this wasn’t really the case. 

That’s when she turned on me.  

This, she said, was all my fault. 

So I may not have to fake my death after all. 

Not if Willie gets to me first.