I turned sixty-eight yesterday, quietly celebrating with just a cold beer and my recliner. Normally, I don’t mind being alone, but this time, I wished for more than just a “Happy Birthday!” text.

My wife passed away years ago. Since then, I’ve sold our house, moved into an apartment, and spent most of my days questioning the point of it all. You spend your life with someone you love, grow old together, and then suddenly, you’re left alone in a world that moves on without you.

On my birthday, I made a decision.

I wasn’t going to be alone anymore.

I decided to find my next true love and thought a nursing home would be a good place—plenty of women my age with nowhere else to go and nothing to do.

But I can’t afford a nursing home. Medical bills and my wife’s funeral drained my savings. My only hope was that my kids would help out.

So, I came up with a plan.

I texted all three of my children, saying I needed to move in with one of them and needed someone to look after me. I called and bugged them, reminding them that I’m only getting older and that one of them would have to take me in eventually.

Finally, my kids came to my apartment for what turned out to be an "intervention."

“Dad,” my daughter Melody said, “we already have eight in our house. We can’t add one more.”

I always liked Melody. She's married and raised a good family. I can’t even remember why she stopped calling.

“Yeah, eight if you count the dog and the two goldfishes,” William scoffed.

William has always been a bit of a problem.

“Well,” I said, “why can’t I live with you then, William?”

“I’m a fisherman. Four weeks on, four weeks off. What happens if you hurt yourself and I’m not home for three more weeks?”

Jacob, my youngest, sat in my recliner with eyes on the ceiling. He was always my favorite child. Always the nice, quiet one. This must have been difficult for him.

“So, what?” I asked, pretending to get upset, “you’re gonna dump me in some nursing home? Is that it?”

They fell right into my trap.

“None of us can afford that, Dad!” William blurted out.

“It’s true,” Melody added, “Jonathan has his college tuition, Amy recently broke her leg, and you know my hours got cut at the library. Even if all three of us split it, we couldn’t afford it.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Do you expect me to be alone and suffer?”

“No,” Jacob finally spoke up. He got up from the recliner, walked over to the bookshelf, and set down a pistol and a single bullet. “We think it’d be best if you got back together with Mom.”