Sometimes I see an elderly gentleman in public who reminds me of my dad in some way. It catches me off guard, and I find tears springing to my eyes. Some of you know (because I’ve written about it before) that my dad was stricken with polio as a high school freshman and completely paralyzed. He was kept alive solely by an iron lung.
Talking about death is morose and makes me feel uneasy, yet there’s something oddly comforting about preparing for it. I’m not setting a date or anything, mind you. I’m just making sure I’ll be tucked in “bed” exactly how I want to be tucked in. I was explaining my whole “prepare for death” plan to […]
I’ve been divorced for two years now, or is it three? I’m not sure, but it’s a good sign that I’ve lost track, right? Yeah foshozie. Sometimes it amazes me that I strode right into my future with no medical insurance, zero accumulated social security, absolutely no savings or retirement nest egg, and a blog as a […]