Every wall in the dead man’s apartment was covered with instructions to himself

Dear Delyara, I am a locksmith. Police called me to open an apartment after neighbours reported a smell and no answer. I do this more often than people imagine. Usually, I open the door and leave quickly. Today, once the lock turned, I saw notes everywhere. TURN OFF GAS. KEYS IN BLUE BOWL. TAKE TABLETS AT 8. YOUR SISTER IS ANA. YOU LIVE HERE. The man had been living alone with some form of memory loss. The police found him in the bedroom. I did not know him. Still, those notes stayed with me. On the refrigerator was one written larger than the others: YOU ARE NOT IN TROUBLE. YOU FORGET THINGS. THAT IS ALL. I had to step into the hallway. My own father is beginning to forget. Nothing diagnosed yet. He repeats questions and misplaced his car twice last month. We joke about it because joking keeps the future from entering the room. I copied that sentence into my phone before I left. Maybe that was wrong. It felt private. Tonight, Dad called asking whether I know where he put the spare house key. I told him we would find it tomorrow. He apologized four times. I nearly said the sentence from a dead stranger’s refrigerator: You are not in trouble. You forget things. That is all. I could not get the words past my throat.