Death, Grief, and Dementia

This morning I had to tell Mom that one of her oldest and closest friends (I’ll call her Mary) had passed away. I wasn’t sure how she’d take it. I wasn’t even sure if I should tell her at all. Mom’s short-term memory is so poor that she may likely forget Mary is dead and […]

Even Dementia Must Be Politically Correct, Apparently

I try very hard to avoid controversy on my social media platforms. I long ago began to check myself from wading into the weeds of political or social commentary—especially on Facebook, where I once had to block, unfriend, or mute people who just could not have a civil debate to save their lives. And those […]

What’s My Name Again?

Yesterday morning, Mom said to me, “I couldn’t remember if your guys’ name was Jesson or Devaney.” I asked her if she was talking about my brother, sister, and me. She was. It is, of course, Jesson. But Devaney was my sister’s first husband’s name, and obviously her children’s name. Both names were familiar to […]

My Grandmother’s Hands

Yesterday, June 6th, was my grandmother’s birthday. In honor of this wonderful woman, I’m posting a short essay I wrote around Valentine’s Day in 2015. I looked down upon my hand poised over my keyboard and saw a hand familiar but not mine. The hand had an agedness—an oldness. No more a young, fleshy, supple […]


“Walks on his own, with thoughts he can’t help thinking. Future’s above, but in the past he’s slow and sinking. Caught a bolt of lightning. Cursed the day he let it go.” Nothingman—Pearl Jam On this the 22st anniversary of my father’s death, I’m thinking of him. Truth be told, I’ve probably been thinking about […]

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