When I was 14 years old, my grandfather had a stroke. After a few months, he was able to walk to the front gate of his yard and get out, which was dangerous for him and my grandmother. My father put a lock and chain around the gate and a big, heavy fence post. Every day for months, my last memory of him is the horrible mixture of distress, fear, and confusion on his face. Each time I saw him for months he was shaking the whole gate as hard as his endurance could allow, until the post was splintering and had to be replaced.