Now and then my wife and I would take my father and mother on short trips. These trips excited but did not overwhelm my parents. They were pleased but not moved. “It’s good to get home,” my mother always said with a sigh, at last. My father said, “I don’t sleep right in a bed that’s not my own.” “I sleep all right,” my mother said, “but I eat too much.” “It’s nice to get back,” my father would say.