Sunday, June 17, 2018


The last time I saw my father conscious before he died was the day we left after moving him and my mother into the independentish-living apartment. Our nine-hour drive to Vermont was delayed seven hours with all the medication/insulin fiascos going on. This was the day Tim said that my mother lied right to his face. This was the day that Verizon fucked us over so bad I thought I would have to kill someone. This was the day the helper found me sobbing on the bedroom floor and put her arms around me. I was at my worst.


  1. It was also the day, dear friend, that you were at your very best. You could not slay the dragons, but you kept trying, which is what all truly great people do. I'm sorry this was the last time you saw him in the conscious world. This story is bitter and hard, but at the heart of it I see you and your sister and Tim, and even the kindness of this helper. It is a bleak New England play, and you're caught in the 2nd act. There will be beauty, by the end. XXOO

  2. Kim put it better than I possibly could have. I'm sorry, IB, truly sorry.

  3. Oh, I'm reading this with tears in my eyes (remembering the last time I saw my father conscious before he died). And Kim's comment worsened the blurry eyes too, but she is 100% right. You were not at your worst. You were at your lowest. There is an enormous difference.