Sunday Morning Musings: But For The Grace of God
Sunday Morning Musings: But For The Grace of God It’s a mix of anticipation and dread I experience as I plan to visit my friend Katie* for the second time…
A Better Version of Me
what if I couldn’t do any of those things? What if I was trapped in a house, in my room, in my bed, alone and in pain? What if I couldn’t bathe myself? What if getting to the toilet required a monumental effort equaled only by getting back to my bed afterward?
I Have Not Come To Mourn. I Have Come To Say Goodbye.
She had been in a nursing home for several years, deteriorating at a snail’s pace. On my annual visits, my brother and I would question the wisdom of stockpiling old people in places like this.
So Long. I Love You, Babe. A Hospice Story.
From where he sits on the sofa, Vivaldi on the portable CD player next to him, he sees everything but can make sense of nothing. His home gleams. Not a spot of dust anywhere. His wife, with nothing else to do but care for him, has become obsessive. Dust she can control. A husband whose mind deteriorates a little more each day is beyond her.
October 2017 Update
"...you're the only thing in this house I really value."
When Dad Was Sick – Part One
Dr. Carter refused to discuss the situation with me and kicked my parents and daughter out of his office. Before he died, my dad said, "Don't blame the doctors." Oh, but I do.