These Common Blindspots Can Derail The Best Intentions — When I was three I used to toddle up our low shag-carpeted stairs to watch “The Andy Williams Show” with Grandma in her room. Grandma was confined to a hospital bed. …

Dying can be sneaky. We may not see it coming. — When Jen picks up her Dad for hip surgery, he steps onto the porch into the sunlight. His skin looks orange. There will be no surgery. Jen knows something is wrong but she keeps this to herself so Dad will get in the car. At the hospital, they take one…

And the agenda and tone. Check yourself. — In my writing critique group, Donna tells me that when her mother discovered she had cancer, the two of them went out for beer. In the pub, her mother was very clear. She told Donna that she wanted: a Do Not Resuscitate (DNR) Order, which is a legal directive stating…

Don’t wait on test results. Talk about dying with your loved one. — Ron, eyes at half-mast and face contorted in anguish lay in a hospital bed crying out every few minutes for Trish. “I’m here,” whispers Trish, his partner of 38 years, who has been at his bedside for days, except to shower, change, and speak quietly just outside of Ron’s room…

Part II: Coming of Age, realizing my power — The first time I realize the “Invisible Script” I am on a business trip, solo in Southern California, and three thousand miles away from real life. This script choreographs what a young woman should want, and how she should be. I don’t know who wrote this script. My parents don’t…

Part I: Coming of Age, inspired by The Waitresses’ coy 1982 hit — I Know What Boys Like I Know What Guys Want I am three years old… I like all the same things as my best friend, Albert. On an Air Force base in Germany, we toss pebbles from the fourth floor of our apartment building onto the tin roof below. We…

There’s someone else to trust just as much — My mother has never been one to complain. Even while managing multiple body aches, frailties, and ailments that can go along with living 93 years. After some meals or on the mornings she sits up on the edge of her bed to start the day, she places a hand on…

Before bed, the man rises from the twin easy chair to collect headsets each night and switch off the TV… — The man positions his cane and rocks forward and up, his weight held by blue upholstered arms. Snap. Side-wise, the man collapses. Over their show, his wife hears the bone crack. She doesn’t reach for the phone. She doesn’t press the button on the unsightly lanyard around her neck, the one The Kids insist “at least she wear.”

Don’t Overthink It — You may want to quit reading now. This post is intended for an audience of one: Me. I need to prove something to myself and this is how I’ll do it. Warnings My thoughts meander. I may tell where showing is best. Points can be crisper. Keeping these and other known…