May the trip home be uneventful.

It is a privilege to take care of somebody at the end of their life, and I promise you they will feel nothing but tenderness as they tend to these undignified requirements.

I know it is hard for the person being cared for, but I always reminded them that I knew with every fiber of my being that they would take care of me if the roles were reversed. Nurturing loved ones is a part of life from the beginning all the way through to the end.

Yikes, Hil! I'm glad you're out of the hospital and doing better!

Yikes, Hil! I’m glad you’re out of the hospital and doing better.

I was coming here to post that my shower chair broke this morning that I not only use for the shower but assisting me in and out of the tub. So, my life with be interesting until I can replace it. However, that seems much less important than it did a few minutes ago.

Glad you're on the mend, Hil!

Being cared for in very personal ways never really does get easy. I suppose I'm fortunate(in kind of a sick way that I don't especially like, but hey) that it's been enough of a constant that equating dignity with not needing it only enters in when someone brings it. If my soul really knew this was going to happen, in the way the new-age folks tend to think, especially if some part of me volunteered for this, I wish they had spent a few extra bucks and bought me a cast-iron digestion, metaphorically speaking. Because it's coming off some kind of upset where I find myself thinking "*that's* gratuitous."

This Bengals-Browns game is unsatisfactory. Burrow needs to step the fuck up and earn that giant paycheck.

Timelies all!

Glad you’re doing better, Hil.

Hil, oh, my gosh! So glad to hear you're out and doing better.

David, safe travels home. The pictures on FB show so clearly how much your sister loved seeing you. I'm glad you (both) had that time.

The pictures on FB show so clearly how much your sister loved seeing you. I'm glad you (both) had that time.

Yes, it was really necessary for me to go to bolster that whole branch of the family. Not just for my sister but for my niece and nephew, and for their grown (except for one) children.

Weirdly, I am the paterfamilias now. I didn't really know that's what I was stepping in to but that's what my role became. To assure them that family bonds were strong among us and we were going to get through this loss.

Also, I was the only one that could tell my sister to cut that shit out. (About her stubborn willfulness to keep walking without assistance even after two falls, one of them injurious.)

I'm also in a position now to help my niece financially who's on unpaid leave while she tends to her mother's death.

I'm weary. A little physically and a lot emotionally. I sat around at my gate looking at pictures of our wedding and crying about Jacqueline. I'm crying now.

It's hard to reconnect to who we were before she was sick. These last 9 months are all so horribly vivid and block out access to the past. And I miss her. And I've missed her for months.

I'm sorry, David. The memories will come back.