The Beach House

Preface: I had hoped to have my website completely updated and finished before pushing a new blog post, but I needed to vent a little. We’ll call this a “soft opening.” History I don’t think I’ve ever written about “The Beach House” before. My mom and dad purchased the land, in a development south of

Disheartened & overwhelmed

Through the process of Mom dying, I rarely got stuck. When I started thinking, “I can’t do this,” my inner voice would say helpful things like, “Just make the next phone call”, “Take a minute to breathe”, or “You don’t have to fix this, you just have to be here.” Over the last month, I’ve

Not so in order

I have a habit of writing emails and posts  that contain numbered lists. Occasionally, I find this a little obnoxious, but there is something extremely comforting about a list.  I had 18 things I wanted to accomplish this weekend. At the same time, I’m having trouble remembering how doors work. Friday Friday was day two

Re-entry

Tomorrow I go back to work for the first time since Mom’s death. While I can’t say I’m excited (at least not with a straight face), I do think it’s time. It will be nice to talk about normal things again. While there is still a long list of things to get done, sorted, addressed,

Good-bye, Maggie

As most will know by now, my mom, Maggie Choate, died yesterday in the late afternoon. I posted the information on her CaringBridge site and then on social media. For those left out of those venues, I have spent the day emailing and (as a last resort) calling with notifications. I sat down just now

Deserving

The last few days have been tough. Mom fell on Sunday morning and call for me for an hour before I heard her (it was early morning and I was sleeping.) When I finally woke up, we called the firemen for a “non-emergency lift” and later that day I got baby monitors so I could

Random Notes about Hospice

Morphine is not living up to the hype. As a “Generation X”er, I am sure that most of my colleagues remember sitting in health class and being told terrible things about drugs. How they were so addictive and terrible. Of course, heroin was the most terrible of all. One dose and you would become a

The ‘Ove’ Glove Meltdown

Right now, if you take any 15 minute segment of my time at home, there is at least one instance of me trying desperately to remember, within about 6 feet, where the most likely place for any given item might be. Dishes. Papers. Medicines. Clothes. Food. The dog (probably near the food…) I consider myself

My way

When I was a “rebellious” teen, it used to absolutely infuriate me that whenever I would leave the house, my dad would tell me to put on my coat. It did matter if it was -20° or a balmy 65°. “You should put on a coat,” he would tell me as a was going out