I sit on my porch after mowing all the yards and I see it, a patch in my back yard that I missed. It’s hardly noticeable, probably invisible to everyone else, but from this angle and because I was the one who missed it, I see it. I squirm in…

I spent a week at home. I’m going home today. Home. It’s a tricky word. Maybe I’m polydomestic? I am at home -truly at home- in multiple places. I never love leaving, but I have learned that leaving is okay, because I am at home at either house. I’ve been…

I started a text to my friends yesterday morning to let them know (warn them?) that I would be in town for a few days. I’ll be around next week. Let me know if you have time to get together. 90 miles feels like 90 leagues lately. I’m struggling… Or…

We’re breaking. -You’ve been on us for hours! What are you doing? -Nothing. Just getting ready. -Nothing!? You’re breaking us for nothing? -Not nothing. Mom’s birthday. -Ohhh, our aching bones. And those knees… before long, they’ll collapse on us! -Just a little longer. I’m almost done … mom’s feet would never have…

Today is mom’s birthday. ¡Cinco de Mayo! I have mixed feelings. If you had asked me in January What are you doing for your mom’s 84thbirthday? I would have explained, She won’t be here for it. But she is. Mixed feelings I’ve written about mixed feelings around mom’s disease and decline before…

Mom still loves visits. Her fight to show up for us remains fierce. I can’t say I show up for visits with her ferocity. It’s spring, and dad and I have impossible to-do lists that crowd our sleep and our clocks, an evil formula at work: the longer the list of to-dos, the deeper…

What happens when you light a gas light in a glass house? My first concern: the safety of it. I’ve sat on the question of a gas light in a glass house since I called the owner of mom’s sitter agency last week. A couple of things the owner doesn’t know: We live in a glass house. I write about mom’s journey…

It was better before. I’m not as regular as the sunrise, but I visit and on good days, I take you for a walk. Walks aren’t what they used to be. Wheels are involved. Walks were better before. I lift you from the hospital bed where you’re spending your last days on this planet…

She’s more than she was to me. I didn’t know what to expect last Saturday. Two years ago, just before she fell ill, I had lunch with my friend Carmen. We hadn’t seen each other for decades of life, relationships, and changes. Now she’s gone. …