I got the trolley for the body out of the van while Rhonda, at the nursing home’s front door entry console, buzzed the night staff. In the daytime we’d go to a side door, but it was after 11 p.m. and the elderly were unlikely to be around. Rhonda leaned close to the speaker. “Hi, funeral home staff here to remove a resident.” A young Filipina woman—more like a girl—met us at the door. I looked at her badge: Maria, Registered Nurse. I pushed the trolley as we followed her through the quiet corridors. The ancient citizenry were tucked safely…