Raised in Apartheid-era South Africa, my mixed-race father had no shortage of scars. But as dementia overpowered his brain, his anxiety and fears melted away, and I met a man I never knew existed.
As we plowed through decades of her extreme clutter, I began to notice similar tendencies in my husband. And once I saw the hoarder in him, there was no turning back.
As a doctor, Dad was very specific in his wishes for end-of-life care. I agreed wholeheartedly…back when it was purely theoretical.
I was just ten when my father passed, long before the Internet. But giving him a digital footprint paid off more than I could have ever anticipated.
Religion was never a big part of my life. But when a JCC near my home was targeted in a bomb threat, practicing Judaism felt like a crucial act of resistance.
Time never moved slower than when my father was dying. But finally losing him made me start living like there’s no tomorrow.
An intimate look at life on the kidney waiting list.
Read more »
We humans are far more complex than the news headlines and clickbait would have you believe. Let the Narratively newsletter be your guide.