My neighborhood is like the child's game "telephone" - where you form a line and the person at the front whispers a message, that is passed along in whispers, til the last person announces what they were told and you laugh at the difference.
Not so funny in real life. I was told a neighbor had moved into memory care; now I'm hearing that he passed away. I suppose it could have been both... first move, then mortality... but this seems to happen a lot; I hear two or three different stories about every significant event.
Has me wondering what's been concocted, by whom, to explain my quiet, homebody lifestyle...
not to mention, I had a tooth pulled in late November. What on earth, I wonder, has that been transmogrified into? A heart-lung transplant? 
_________________
"I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people," said the man. "You're wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides."
-- Terry Pratchett, Guards! Guards!