In olden times when we all lived in villages and communities. Not suburbs or vertical spaces in neighborhoods where nobody knows your name. In them olden days the village gathered around the dying. Supporting those left behind. Now, well the odds of dying alone is a parlay bet on Fanduel.
Read moreReconciling Myself with My Reality
Oystering is the word of moment. Pull back but not surrender my kindness to others just to myself.
Read moreA Letter to Her Ashes
Some of Donna’s Ashes put to sea in Maine
I sit in my ersatz solitary confinement trying to ferret out meaning and purpose. Poking my snout into holes seeking the scent of a voice that I can harvest to resonate with others as Abbey has. There are many ghosts and just the me of me that places a Jersey Barricade in my path.
Read moreThe Venn of Isolation, Loneliness, and Me
Ashes Maine
“We do not know how long we have to be lonely or isolated, or how severe this must be for us to have lasting negative consequences.” Senate Special Committee on Aging June 2020
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