No one can prepare you for this stage of life and certainly no one can prepare you to tell your Dad that his race was just about over. My Dad was a bigger than life human. He had a robust personality and he LOVED life. He used to say in better days, “Living is so good - I’m going to hate to die.” So imagine having to deliver the news that nothing else could be done for him. He was 89, so he lived a great life.

The next day I went to visit him and he asked me if he could have a hot dog and a beer. Clearly these were not foods available to him in rehab. Dad loved to eat and not necessarily healthy food. He opened the door for me to have the conversation. He wanted to come home and be with his wife, dog and two cats. He was lonely. Somehow I found the words to tell him that he could come home the next day, but that he was never getting better. I asked if he was tired of doctors and prescription meds? He told me he didn’t want to take them anymore. He asked if he could do what he wanted (like eating and drinking) when he came home. I told him, “Yes”, and that I would cook all his favorite foods every day.”

That afternoon, Dad was under the care of hospice and he came home the next day.

I think he was ready, but he was a fighter and he was part of the Greatest Generation and he was not a quitter. He was a great athlete and to see him like he was, was heartbreaking. Part of him felt like he was quitting on life, but the part of him that was incontinent, confused, weak and stuck in rehab facility was done fighting.

He lasted 11 days. He drank a couple of gin & tonics every day. I cooked all his favorite foods. The cats and the dog were by his side and I sat with him, held his hand and we talked about anything that made him happy. On Day 10 he lapsed into a coma. He had no pain, because hospice believes in dignity and compassion. We had a private nurse come in for the last two days because we couldn’t take good enough care of him. We knew on the 10th day that the end was coming soon. I spent the night at his house on the sofa and at 5:23am, the nurse called us into his room.

I held his hand and suddenly, he sat up in bed, looked right at me, fell back and he was gone. My Dad was gone and even though it was over a decade ago, I still feel the tears as I write this. He died on my wedding anniversary, so I will never forget the date.

Hospice needs better marketing. It’s a beautiful program for end of life care, because it gives a person dignity. Dad was on hospice for 10 days and my Mom was on for 18 months. I think the most important thing we can do as caregivers or spouses, sons and daughters, is to ask questions. Ask what your loved one wants and even if it’s not what you agree with, remember this is their journey and you’re the person trusted to walk it with them.

Do we ever stop missing our parents? I don’t think so. Something happens when you lose both of your parents. You become a different person. I can’t explain how I’ve changed; I just know I have.

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Life wasn’t always easy for us. I was a single Mom and somehow endured five custody trials with my ex. He would lose his battle (because I was a really good Mom) and the next day, he’d serve me papers again for custody. There was no rhyme or reason for this on his part; it was merely to cause emotional and financial distress, which is exactly what he did. There was no spousal or child support, just her and me living in a teeny tiny apartment, doing our best. Honestly, she didn’t know the scary days when my bank account had 50 cents in it - and she didn’t care how many nights we ate Kraft Macaroni & Cheese for dinner. It was her and me and she kept me afloat. She didn’t understand being poor, because her father’s family was very wealthy. She just wanted to be with Mommy.

We did things, that if I had any money, we probably wouldn’t have done. You learn to improvise. We spent a lot of time outdoors; collecting shells, taking walks, looking for roly poly’s, and my times with her were possibly the sweetest memories I have to date.

When you become a single Mom, you lose people - people who you thought were friends, turned out not to have time anymore. I was alone - a lot. I was lonely - a lot. I cried - a lot. But you know what? I survived. I fought like a lioness for her during these custody trials. She was my raison d’etre and my entire focus was on her. Nothing else mattered. I turned down job promotions if it meant I had to travel. My time was hers and when she would visit her father I counted the minutes until she returned.

This period in my life taught me things that I otherwise, might not have learned. I discovered that I am a warrior when it matters. I’m resilient and I’m determined. I might look gentle on the outside, but don’t mess with me when it comes to my daughter (or my dogs). I survived having no money and doing without. I learned to sacrifice and somehow I managed to keep it together and not fall apart.

I don’t know why we have to walk through the shit to grow and discover a side of ourselves we never knew existed.

I don’t remember life before her. The day I held her in my arms, everything changed and as difficult as it is to admit this, I knew that one day it would be just her and me. I knew my marriage had no chance. I didn’t know it would be so contentious. The irony is that years later, when my ex-husband had dementia and his wife had passed away, he came and spent 10 days with my husband and me at Christmas, because my daughter couldn’t leave him alone. I’m not sure what, if anything, that he remembered, but for me, everything came full circle. I healed simply by opening my door to my daughter’s very challenging request and I said, YES. And we all shared Christmas and at one point, on Christmas morning, he sat on my sofa, opening his presents and said quietly, “This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” And in that moment, all the anger and frustration and resentment dissipated.

Divorce is brutal. There’s no other way around it. My heart still breaks for what she endured. So yesterday, I remembered the good, the bad, the sad, the heartache and worry, but mostly I thanked God for giving me the greatest gift of all…my daughter.

Our flight landed later than scheduled and the customs area was basically not functioning. There was one person checking passports for multiple flights. I was very worried we were going to miss our flight to Florence. We finally got through customs and were racing through the airport as fast as we could run with luggage. I saw a porter and asked where our gate was ( the Brussels airport is huge and very confusing) and he told me to get in his transport vehicle and he would take us. What a bonus, I thought. He makes a U-turn and we approach two 16-18 foot glass doors. He pushes the automatic button and the doors open outward. As we start to drive through, the doors begin closing. I yelled at him to stop, but instead he accelerated and hit the door on the right - where I was sitting. He hit it hard enough that the whole door shattered on top of me and the metal handle came down on my right foot and slashed my foot open! There was blood everywhere. I was in shock and my poor husband is running around trying to find something to stop the bleeding. Meanwhile, the travelers in the airport are taking videos with their phones of my traumatic accident. No one came to help! (We live in an interesting world.)

There was no doctor on staff…no nurse…nobody to help. Finally someone in management showed up and called the paramedics. Off I go to the ER in Brussels.

I will spare you the ugly pictures.

Needless to say, we missed our flight to Florence. After waiting several hours for a doctor to see me, one finally showed up. He barely cleaned the wound, stitched me up and told me to continue on my way to Italy. He said, I would be fine. No crutches. No boot. No cane. No NOTHING! And the biggest problem was that the pain was so bad that I couldn’t walk. Anyway…long story short - we returned home the next day and the following day, I saw surgeon. Here’s what the door did to my foot.

It severed all the tendons in my right foot and messed with a couple of nerves. No wonder I had pain. Next up - surgery, about 3 1/2 hours. But the 3 1/2 hours turned into 5 because the surgeon had to pick shards of glass out of my foot that the Brussels doctor left in there for almost two hours. Good thing we didn’t continue our trip.

I was in a non weight bearing cast for months. Tendon surgery is highly sensitive and my foot couldn’t touch the ground. No problem. I became very adroit at using my scooter.

August 2023: Here’s where my life dramatically changes. I woke up on morning in excruciating pain and my hands were badly swollen. But the pain was everywhere. X-rays and MRI’s showed nothing, but my bloodwork showed inflammation that was through the roof. I was given pain meds and huge doses of Prednisone to get by until I could see a rheumatologist. I have never experienced such pain. I couldn’t bend my fingers. I couldn’t raise my arm more than a couple of inches. I couldn’t get dressed by myself. And I couldn’t make the pain stop. Nothing helped.

The Diagnosis: Rheumatoid Arthritis - It’s very late in life to be diagnosed with RA, but my surgeon firmly believes that the trauma caused by the accident was the trigger. My body went into overdrive trying to compensate for the accident.

How does RA change one’s life? I mean millions of people have autoimmune illnesses. If you watch the nightly news, you’d think everyone has some sort of autoimmune issue. For my entire life, I had never really had any health issues. Suddenly I’m taking large doses of prednisone, methotrexate ( a chemotherapy drug) and a weekly injection of Enbrel - an immunosuppressant drug to manage the pain; plus I have to have my blood drawn every two months to monitor the effects on my body. Do a Google search of all these things and it’s a nasty combination. I battled taking all this crap for a long time, but decided that living in severe pain simply was not worth it. So I bite the bullet and take the medicine.

This is not a pity party post, because I do not live in a pity party.

I see life differently now. First and foremost I am fully aware of just how fragile life is. I could have died, but I didn’t . Something way worse could have happened when the glass fell on top of me. Gratitude is a huge part of my every day. Gratitude for not only being alive, but being able to walk. Managing pain gets to the root of everything. I hate taking pain meds when a flare-up happens so I muscle through it. I’ve discovered that I’m stronger than I ever thought. Life changing moments make you realize what matters - what you will and will not put up with and this girl, today, doesn’t put up with a lot of crap from anyone. I spent most of my life as the ultimate people pleaser (see my previous post on this), but now I spend more time taking care of me and those people in my life that I love. But if you don’t treat me with kindness and decency, then I’m gone - not in a loud sort of way; just quietly gone. Think your phone in airplane mode. You can see me, but you can’t reach me.

So here’s the deal: Rheumatoid Arthritis sucks, but it also gave me perspective that I might not have had, otherwise. I’ve learned to manage my new way of living. Do I love it? Nope. But I can manage it. Do I have a little PTSD around breaking glass? Yes, but I can handle that, too. Have I been back to Italy…not yet.

Perspective - life is all about your perspective.

Has your world been rocked in a way that changed you? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

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Mom passed away on September 17, 2025. I visited her that morning and although she wasn’t speaking, she was clearly at peace. Thirty minutes after I left, she passed, alone. To this day, it breaks my heart, but I now know that she was in charge of this journey and this is what she wanted. When the hospice nurse called, I had just walked in the door of my house and as much as I thought I had prepared for this news, I broke. I sat on the kitchen floor and sobbed. She was gone.

What happened after her passing has surprised me more than anything. After years of suppressing my emotions, suddenly they came pouring out. I couldn’t stop the tears. I cried at everything. A picture on Instagram and I’m crying. A mother and daughter - I’m crying. A card from a friend - I’m crying. A song on the radio in the car - I’m crying. My dogs coming to sit next to me - I cry. You get the picture, right? No way was I able to go through her things. None of this should be surprising. She was, after all, my mother for a very long time. There is something about losing your mother that is so deeply painful.

She’s been gone eight months now, and I still find that I cry easily. I think what happened is that I finally gave myself permission to feel on a deeper level than I have ever allowed myself to feel before; and it feels good. I have less stress because I don’t suppress my emotions any longer. If I’m hurting, I cry. If something touches my heart, deeply, I cry. Sometimes it’s happy tears and sometimes heartfelt tears - but it’s tears nonetheless. I see situations differently. I feel whole. Emotional release clears the way for clarity and it frees you. I find that I’m a better listener to others and to myself. I have a new kind of peace in my life and it’s my personal freedom.

I can’t go back in time, but I often think about all the years spent trying to put on a strong facade for the world. I don’t do that anymore. Writing certainly helps, but learning to finally listen to the internal dialogue has made all the difference.

I’m no therapist, but if you can relate to any part of this, I’d like to encourage to let your guard down and give yourself permission to cry if the urge strikes, and I’d love to hear your story.

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If you want to know how to keep your sanity during this time, then keep reading, because I’m going to save you a lot of aggravation simply by sharing the mistakes I made.

As a person ages (my mother was well into her 90’s when the major decline began), needs and desires also change. My mother was very clear about what she wanted. She kept saying that she was “ready to go” or “I just want to die.” That’s pretty clear don’t you think? But I wasn’t having it. I wasn’t ready for this and honestly, I didn’t want to deal with all the STUFF that accompanies a body in decline. I was busy. I was running a business. I didn’t have time for this and sadly, I kept pushing her.

She wanted a few things: to sit on her bed, play solitaire and simple jigsaw puzzles on her iPad, take naps, eat carbohydrates and sweets, take more naps and not have to talk a lot.

What did I want for her? I wanted her to walk, do her exercises to keep up her strength, get fresh air outside, do anything besides the iPad, and participate in life. (She was pretty much finished with the participation part.) So I bought her a stationery bike - the kind you just pedal while sitting down. I bought her adult coloring books and beautiful markers. I purchased physical jigsaw puzzles. I bought her a rollator so she could go outside and I did my best feed her healthy, nutritious food. I thought I could give her a better quality of life, and in my defense, I could have, but she wanted no part of it.

So I pushed her and she would cry and I would get frustrated and then things fell apart. Why I didn’t just listen to what she wanted, I’ll never know. I just couldn’t accept that this is where she was in her lifetime journey. Finally her decline was so bad that I stopped, but to this day I wish I had handled things differently. Things I said. Things I didn’t say.

It’s easy to reflect and think, “I should have known better. I should have done better.” But I couldn’t, because at the time all this was happening, I wasn’t ready to lose her. I was doing what I thought was best and in all honesty, this was my mother - not someone in a book. Reflection and journaling have given me the perspective I didn’t have at the time and now I’m learning to give myself compassion and grace. I did my best and I made a lot of mistakes, but life is not about getting everything right. It’s about growing and changing and understanding more than did at the time.

And it’s also about sharing experiences that can hopefully help someone else. If you’re in the throws of caregiving or you think you’re going to be there, spend more time listening to what your loved one wants and just do that. Because the truth is, you can’t fix what’s happening, but you can make yourself crazy trying to. It’s not easy when what you want doesn’t align with what your person wants, but it’s his/her life and our job is to caregive - not force our desires on someone else. Save yourself a lot of frustration and don’t try to make everything perfect. You can’t or just simply can’t. And it’s okay to sit in this space and try and accept what is.

This is the last time my Mom had a glass of wine and it was last year on Mother’s Day. I miss her.

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Of course there are emotions tied to caring for a loved one, but you’ve got to try to approach parts of this like a business. You can love your business, but you have to be smart about it.

Rarely does caregiving just appear one day out of the blue. Signs show up. Forgetfulness, dents in the car; the house isn’t quite as clean as it used to be. You notice that your loved one struggles more to stay in a conversation. It’s a lot of little things and it’s a slow, quiet change that we, too often, choose to ignore. We don’t want to think about and then one day, there you are - wondering what in the hell happened!

I don’t want this for you. So today’s post is about what you MUST do to get ready and help you manage this time in life. I’m not kidding. You MUST do the following things to prepare. Even if you are in the throws of this, you still have to do this.

1. Have the difficult conversation in advance. You absolutely must know what you’re stepping in to. No one wants to have this conversation, especially with a parent, because it’s uncomfortable. So set a time to have a business meeting. State up front that this isn’t going to be easy for anyone, but if you want my help as you grow older, I need to know some things. What will you discuss in this meeting?

2. Your loved one’s financial situation. Is there money set aside for a changing living environment? Will you have to step up to help out? (Avoid this if you can.) If your parent tells you it’s none of your business, then you persist - calmly, with love and kindness and explain that you are not able to go into this next chapter blindly. Draw a line in the sand and be crystal clear that you are not willing to enter into this blindly.

3. Ask what they want? Oftentimes we have no idea what someone wants, because - we don’t talk about these things. If you don’t know what your loved one wants, how in the world will you know what to do? And don’t think you know what’s best. Ask and record the answers. Knowing specifically what a person wants when they aren’t able to make decisions makes a HUGE difference.

4. Someone has to have an Advanced Care Directive. Who will be in charge of care if your loved one becomes incapacitated and can’t make decisions on their own? (And I’m here to tell you that this will happen.)This is vital and everyone should have this document in place. If you don’t have it, you have no say in your loved one’s care and no medical worker will talk to you about anything. It’s the law. So get your document in order. You need to be the voice and the advocate. I can’t stress this enough. The Advanced Care Directive has to be notarized.

5. Who will have Power of Attorney for finances or better yet, General Power of Attorney? What if your loved one can’t manage their funds? Who will step in to help? A Power of Attorney is a legal document that designates a trusted person to act on your behalf regarding financial, legal or medical matters.

   If there’s an estate; who is the Executor? Everyone needs to know and trust this person. The Executor is the person appoint3ed to manage and settle the affairs after someone has passed. Often the POA and Executor are different people. Make sure you know who’s who.

6. Every state has different requirements for these documents, but a simple internet search will guide you. All the forms are readily available for free via the internet. Make sure you get them notarized or they aren’t worth anything.

Does your loved one have long-term care insurance? If so, read the policy!!!! Or call the agent and make sure you understand the perimeters. I’m not a fan of these policies based upon my mother’s experience. She paid over $145,000 into her policy, but when it came time for her to use her policy, she was denied. The thing about most long-term care policies is that you can’t use them until someone is really bad off and when that happens there is a 90 day waiting period before the benefits kick in.

Unlike a regular insurance policy, with long-term care, you basically have a bag of money that you can use. For example, you pay out of pocket for 90 days and then the policy begins paying. But if you outlive your bag of money then you’re finished. Once the money is used up, you’re out of options. Now of course, there are “Golden Policies” but most people can’t afford them. Read the fine print carefully. These policies also increase exponentially as the person ages.

Clearly there are other things you should do to prepare for this journey. The more you can accomplish before someone is not able to do things on their own, the better off you’re going to be. You can go at your own pace, but please, whatever you do, get the conversation going and the documents in place.

When the time comes, you’ll be grateful that you took the time to do it.

Next up…The Emotional Roller Coaster Ride. If you have questions, I’d love to help you. I’ve spent a lot of years in this space.

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I wrote a book in 2010 about family caregiving. I wrote it with a servant’s heart and the promise that caring for an elderly parent was an honor and should be looked upon as such. I LIED!

Caregiving is honestly the most challenging, difficult thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. At first, caring for my mother wasn’t a big deal. Her pain and periodic illnesses were manageable, but as she began to decline, I had to take a step back, take off the rose-colored glasses and get real.

My mother went onto hospice service in April of 2024, (she was 95 years old) and she passed away at age 96.5 in September of 2025. That’s more than a year and a half on hospice. She lived with my husband and me for 36 years! Did she need physical care all those years. She did not, but she did need emotional and financial support after my father left her after 40 years of marriage. Off and on, as she aged, she had medical and physical needs. However, it wasn’t until the last 8 years that things got extremely difficult.

She injured her back in 2017 and in spite of doctors, chiropractors, sports med doctors, neurologists, orthopedists, pain medications, physical therapy (both in patient, in home and out-patient), she refused to get off her bed and do anything to help herself improve. She literally sat on her bed most days doing nothing.

I’d like to tell you that I was patient and always kind, but I’d be lying. Her stubbornness and resistance to trying drove me crazy and eventually I came to resent her and every single aspect of caregiving. It turned into a nightmare for my husband and me and, of course, her. This is coming from the woman who wrote a book and did speaking engagements on how to be a caregiver. I was ashamed that I couldn’t live up to what I had shared with others, after all, I spoke on this subject all over the United States.

Sadly, this is often the evolution of caregiving. Contrary to what the media wants us to believe, most caregivers are engaged in some sort of elder care for a long time. After a while, you aren’t even aware of all the time spent, the total exhaustion, the social activities you don’t attend, the guilt, the lonliness and the many other ways it gets to you.

When I wrote my previous book, Caregiving: Eldercare Made Clear & Simple, I had been caring for my former father and mother-in-law, but here’s the difference: they had caregivers 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I ran their life. I managed their home. I visited every day and I was paid to do this.

I want to apologize for getting it wrong, because I did.

America also gets this wrong on every possible level. In essence we do little to nothing for the family caregiver. If you have plenty of money, you can get all the help you need, but if you’re like most people in our country, this is not the case. If you think childcare is expensive; wait until you have to hire caregivers.

I think I’ve read almost every book on the subject of caregiving and almost every one is the same. Same advice: Don’t forget to take care of yourself. Don’t lose yourself to caregiving. Be sure to get enough sleep. Go to a caregiver support group. On and on and on. But the question is: HOW EXACTLY DOES ONE DO THIS?

I don’t want you to feel alone. I don’t want you to beat yourself up. Will I have answers for you? Most likely I won’t. But I will promise you this. I will give you the courage to fight for yourself; to not lose yourself (although it’s very difficult); and above all else, I’m going to share whatever I can to help you on this journey.

The Statistics are Astounding

As of this writing, there are an estimated 53-54 million (about 1 in 5 adults) unpaid family caregivers in the United States. Let that number sink in. Most of these caregivers have little to no help. They are doing this solo, and based upon numerous conversations with others and personal experience, caring for an elderly parent takes everything out of you. Sadly, most don’t recognize the personal damage that has occurred until the caregiving journey comes to an end.

The number of family caregivers has grown by nearly 10 million in the last 10 years due to aging populations and rising care needs.

As a country, we’re very adept at prescribing prescription drugs to keep a person alive, but when it comes to care assistance, we do nothing. (In another post I’ll share our experience with long-term care insurance.)

Who are these caregivers caring for?

1. Older Adults – parents: Most caregivers assist adults 50+ with chronic illnesses, dementia or mobility issues.

2. Spouses/Partners – About 12% care for a spouse or partner.

3. Children with Disabilities – A significant portion care for children with serious conditions or developmental needs. (I cannot speak to caring for a disabled child and would never pretend that I could, but I have to believe that caring for your child is different than caring for a parent.)

4. Multiple Generations – Around 24% care for more than one person.

The Demographics:

1. 61% are women, 39 % are men.

2. Age:

a. 23% are 18-34

b. 29% are 35-49

c. 40% are 50-64

d. 7% are 65+

(On a personal note, I have fallen into c & d. A huge portion of my life has been spent in this role.)

Time and Intensity:

1. Average 23 hours per week of unpaid care.

2. 21% provide 40+ hours/week, essentially full-time care.

3. Many provide medical or nursing-level tasks with no training. It’s amazing that lay people are supposed to know how to provide medical care.

Financial Impact

Caregiving can create significant economic strain – both out of pocket costs and future earning opportunities.

Direct Expenses:

1. Any medical and care costs not covered by insurance; of which there are a lot. For example: co-pays, medications, home health aides and medical equipment.

2. Home Modifications: You have to make the home safe: Grab bars especially in the bathroom, ramps – if the person uses a wheelchair or a walker, possible stair lift and any bathroom or kitchen renovations).

3. Transportation (gas, parking, any ride services to appointments if you can’t make it, plus someone to attend the appointment.)

4. Daily Living Support – groceries, personal care items, adult undergarments, and any other household supplies.)

Indirect Costs

1. Lost Income if you have to reduce work hours, turn down promotions, take extended time off or leave the workforce entirely.

2. Lost Social Security benefits because reduced earnings affect your lifetime benefit calculation.

3. Reduced retirement savings since many family caregivers have to help supplement the care recipient, they decrease contributions or withdraw from savings early.

4. The average caregiver spends a minimum of $7,200 per year on care expenses. (none of which is tax deductible)

Emotional Costs

It’s almost impossible to stress enough that the emotional toll of caregiving (especially for an aging parent) is oftentimes heavier and more detrimental than the financial strain.

1. Emotional toll: Caregivers suffer extremely high rates of stress, depression, job loss, and overall health decline.

2. Sleep Deprivation: Even if there’s nothing to do for the care recipient, you are always waiting for the next incident to happen. (I had no idea how exhausted I was until my mother passed away and I actually slept through the night.)

3. Feeling like you have NO free or personal time and that you’re always on duty leads to exhaustion and what we commonly refer to as: caregiver burnout. It’s real and it should not be taken lightly.

4. Watching a parent decline and often revert to childlike behavior is extremely painful to watch, not to mention that the parent often resents the role that you are in.

5. Guilt is common. You feel like you aren’t doing enough for the person needing care. You have less and less quality time to spend with your own family and this leads to resentment for the loss of your freedom and often your life.

• a. There is usually strain with siblings over caregiving responsibilities or financial contributions. (I know this well. My brother did absolutely nothing, but told me to be sure and meditate a few times a day. More on this subject later)

• b. Marital stress is extremely common.

• c. Caregivers often withdraw from friends and activities leading to social isolation. There is something about this role that makes the caregiver feel alone or somehow inept if they share their true feelings. (So often in this journey, I felt completely alone.)

If you can relate or think this might be in your future, I want you to just absorb the facts. I’m going to do a series of posts about this subject and I’m not going to sugarcoat it. If you are in throws of caregiving, I’ll do my level best to share my best practices that are super clear in hindsight. And if you think this might be in your future, then there are very specific things you can do NOW to get ready. (Stay Tuned)

I’d love to hear from you. Your experiences matter and I’m here for it.

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I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with Amazon, especially since I’m a small business owner, but hear me out. Amazon does online shopping right. They just do. I place an order and it arrives exactly when they say it will. If, on the rare occasion, shipping gets delayed, I receive notice and options as to how I’d like to proceed. “I” is the operative word here. It’s not how Amazon wants to proceed. I have choices. Or how about if I don’t like something and it’s too difficult to return. They tell you to keep it or donate, and they issue a credit. I understand that when you’re dealing with hundreds of millions of shoppers and a gazillion dollars, they can do these sorts of things, but it’s become the standard that shoppers want.

Recently, I made a purchase from a company promoting natural, organic supplements made in the USA. The marketing was brilliant. The testimonials amazing! (Pretty sure now the testimonials were all fake.)The story compelling and they flat out said that shipping was fast. Read that again: the shipping was fast. But guess what wasn’t fast? Delivery! Because shipping is coming from China. Now I’m even more skeptical as to where the product is made. If your products are made in the USA, then why are they shipping from China? Call me crazy, but this makes no sense to me. We produce items in the United States and then we ship them to China so they can ship them back to the US?????

I placed this order on January 18, 2026 and indeed I received notice that they had shipped on January 19th. However, no updates…no email responses…no customer service…no delivery of my order and NO NOTHING! But guess what they did? On February 19th, they charged me again for the next delivery, which I never signed up for. I email them again and head to the bank to cancel my credit card so they can’t continue this scam and randomly charge my card. I report them to the fraud department and the wheels start turning. Finally on April 6, my money was refunded, but what a ridiculous hassle. Do they communicate with me. No. Do they issue an apology? No. But recently I received an email out of the blue saying that my package was tied up in customs and I should be patient. I ordered 4 months ago! And honestly, if these products ever show up, I’m not going to take them because who knows where they came from and the conditions in which they were made.

Now, had this happened with an Amazon purchase, it would have been handled immediately.

Amazon has also made things extremely difficult for small businesses, because honestly, you just can’t keep up. Small businesses can barely keep their doors open, let alone give free shipping, full refunds, and try and compete with products that literally get delivered in less than 24 hours.

But here is what small businesses can do. They can give the absolute best customer service delivered by an actual human being. If a customer is unhappy, you go out of your way to turn that around. You do what you have to do to make things right. You don’t have to compete with the likes of Amazon, but you better make sure that you stand out from the rest.

Back to the whole fraud thing…fraud is everywhere and it’s becoming more and more difficult to differentiate what’s real and what isn’t. Sadly, truth is rare. But here’s my take away from this recent mess. If you see a sponsored ad on social media, dig deeper. Do not believe what you’re being told. Go on a deep dive and read as many reviews as you can. Search for the product anywhere except where the link in the ad takes you. (That’s key. Generally that link is the tell. If it doesn’t go to an actual website, it’s probably not real.) In my case, this company had set up an actual website. Listen to your gut and pay attention. Check your bank balance frequently and stay on top of what’s happening. It’s a sad situation to not be able to trust much anymore. Sometimes I want to go back to what used to be “the good old days.” And as much as I hate to say it, Amazon does do things the right way.

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This is not a healthy way to live your life especially when you carry it into adulthood.

People pleasing usually shows up as someone being perceptive, kind, and good at reading others; at least that’s what you tell yourself. But somewhere along the line, you abandon yourself in the process. So the goal is to keep the good elements of people pleasing, while also paying very close attention to oneself. It’s actually a subtle shift in awareness.

Tip #1: No is an answer. You can temper your “no” with politeness, but no is the goal. You don’t have to agree to everything.

Tip #2: After years of conditioning, people pleasing happens fast. Generally it’s an automatic “yes,”, over-explaining or constantly smoothing things over. Here’s where awareness comes in: Before you commit to something you don’t want to do: Stop: think: and respond with something like, “Let me think about that,” or “I’ll check and get back to you.” Give yourself some grace.

Tip #3: Check in with yourself. How do you feel after you agree to do something you aren’t crazy about doing? (I used to feel weak and like I had violated my personal space. And I also resented what I had agreed to do.) Are you exhausted trying to keep everyone happy? (I was and worse, I felt angry.) And finally, ask yourself if you’re avoiding disappointing someone else at your own expense. Change happens with your awareness and that literally means checking in with yourself.

Tip #4: Stop over-explaining everything. You don’t need to justify everything to avoid disapproval. Just say, “I’m sorry, but I just can’t do that at this time.” Period. End of conversation.

Tip #5: You are NOT responsible for someone else’s feelings. Their feelings are theirs. Your job is to be respectful but clear that your job is not to manage everyone’s emotional state.

Tip #6: In the beginning of this change, check in with yourself regularly. You are building trust with yourself. We spend so much time worrying about whom we trust, but what about trusting yourself to take care of you? Honor your true feelings and watch what happens.

And finally, get very clear that being kind doesn’t mean always agreeing, never disappointing anyone and putting yourself last. Respectful honesty and boundaries are essential for your personal well being.

For most of my life, I’ve hated my hands. Even at a young age, they were never my best feature, but I look at them now that they have age spots, thin skin and veins that show, and they remind more of my mother’s hands than mine.

I used to hate them, and tried to cover them up, but no more. My hands tell my story.

These are the hands that held my daughter when she was a baby and throughout her life when she needed a hug or a gentle touch. These are the hands that held the books I read to her each night. These are the hands that bathed her little body and cleaned up scraped knees. These are the hands that that held her tightly when she went away to college. These are the hands that still pray for her every night. These are not just my hands; they’re hers also.

These are the hands that cooked countless meals and holiday dinners and God knows how many dishes they washed. These hands feed the birds in my backyard and plant vegetables and herbs in the garden.

These are the hands that give my precious dogs love. These hands cradle scared shelter dogs.

These are the hands that held my mother’s just before she passed. Did she know I was holding her hand? I don’t know, but I can still see her arthritic hands and if I get quiet enough I can relive those final minutes.

Today my hands are subject to flare ups because of rheumatoid arthritis, a chronic condition that showed up a couple of years ago. When flare ups occur, my hands are rendered incapacitated and they simply don’t work. Since the RA, my hands have become weaker and opening a jar comes with frustration. It’s incredibly painful, but it’s during these times I’ve learned to appreciate my working hands even more…even with the dark spots and wrinkles.

These hands continue to get manicured and polished, but they look different now.

These hands allow me to write and work in my business and for that I’m grateful. And, these are the hands that wipe away my tears when no one is watching.

Society tells us to look young and if you don’t, you should get all sorts of procedures done, including adding botox to your hands, while also spending an absolute fortune in hopes of an authentic youthful outcome. But my hands tell my story. They’re my history and I’ve stopped hiding them; but rather, I’m embracing them.

God willing, these hands will continue to create, to produce, and most importantly, to show love. And as you grow older, I hope you, too, find the beauty in your aging hands.

I vowed I would never visit a Trader Joe’s on a Saturday, but yesterday I broke my hard and fast rule. What an experience. If you’ve ever been to a Trader Joe’s then you know that weekends are a bit on the crazy side. In our city, we have a brand new store with ample parking, but somehow that doesn’t make any difference.

Yesterday, I pulled into the parking lot and as I was pulling into a parking space, a woman (with her daughter in the car), rolled down her window and proceeded to call me a “f…ing bitch.” Apparently she wanted to back out just as I was pulling into the space next to her, and this outrageous behavior on my part warranted her tirade! I told myself, “Do not engage. Get your bags and head inside.” The store was literally crawling with people.

One thing about Trader Joe’s is that it seems to attract “family grocery shopping”. The parents have a cart…grandparents have a cart and then of course, the 5 year-old also has a cart. Now we have traffic jams all over the store. I think it’s great if you want to teach your son or daughter about shopping, but maybe not on a Saturday afternoon when the store is packed.

And what about the person who simply leaves the cart in the middle of the aisle and wanders around gathering items. The cart is abandoned and blocking both directions. Am I the only one who thinks this is lacking in respect for others?

Or the mother who lets her children just run rampant through the store? (I’m going to leave it right here.)

I’m especially fond of the shopper who is having a full blown LOUD conversation on their phone while standing in the middle of the aisle. No one wants to hear your private (now public) telephone conversation. Do people not have any spatial awareness?

Then there’s the woman who decides she’s going to start screaming in the face of one of the workers about what a stupid store this is because the one product she wants is not available. What would make someone think this is okay? Again…awareness.

Do you return your to cart to the return station? There’s just something about leaving your cart in the middle of your parking space that screams rudeness. How hard is it to walk 10 feet and return the cart? Someone has to go and corral the carts. Why should they have to dodge cars and wander all over the place to pick up carts, especially when stations are everywhere?

Manners were once the glue that held society together—small, everyday gestures that signaled respect, empathy, and humanity. Somewhere along the way, those simple courtesies began to disappear.

I vowed I would never visit a Trader Joe’s on a Saturday, but yesterday I broke my hard and fast rule. What an experience. If you’ve ever been to a Trader Joe’s then you know that weekends are a bit on the crazy side. In our city, we have a brand new store with ample parking, but somehow that doesn’t make any difference.

Yesterday, I pulled into the parking lot and as I was pulling into a parking space, a woman (with her daughter in the car), rolled down her window and proceeded to call me a “f…ing bitch.” Apparently she wanted to back out just as I was pulling into the space next to her and this outrageous behavior on my part warranted her tirade! I told myself, “Do not engage. Get your bags and head inside.” The store was literally crawling with people.

One thing about Trader Joe’s is that it seems to attract “family grocery shopping”. The parents have a cart…grandparents have a cart and then of course, the 5 year-old also has a cart. Now we have traffic jams all over the store. I think it’s great if you want to teach your son or daughter about shopping, but maybe not on a Saturday afternoon when the store is packed.

And what about the person who simply leaves the cart in the middle of the aisle and wanders around gathering items. The cart is abandoned and blocking both directions. Am I the only one who thinks this is lacking in respect for others?

Or the mother who lets her children just run rampant through the store? (I’m going to leave it right here.)

I’m especially fond of the shopper who is having a full blown LOUD conversation on their phone while standing in the middle of the aisle. No one wants to hear your private (now public) telephone conversation. Do people not have any spatial awareness?

Then there’s the woman who decides she’s going to start screaming in the face of one of the workers about what a stupid store this is because the one product she wants is not available. What would make someone think this is okay? Again…awareness.

Do you return your to cart to the return station? There’s just something about leaving your cart in the middle of your parking space that screams rudeness. How hard is it to walk 10 feet and return the cart? Someone has to go and corral the carts. Why should they have to dodge cars and wander all over the place to pick up carts, especially when stations are everywhere?

I find myself shaking my head at the lack of awareness for others and I’m reminded that good manners aren’t old-fashioned - they’re essential. How we, as individuals, behave toward others and how we show up in public matters. And in my opinion, we need to do better.

I would love to hear your thoughts on this subject.

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Did I mess up? Of course. Did the dogs seem to like me? They did.

The amount of puppies and dogs in shelters today is astounding. Many are strays that no one has claimed. Many are simply left on the side of the road to somehow fend for themselves, and sadly, many are surrendered to the shelter. I no longer drive past boxes on the side of the road. I always stop to see what’s inside.

The stray dogs are always nervous and fearful, because God only knows what they’ve been through. The surrendered dogs are often fearful as well, but mostly they’re depressed, because through no fault of their own, their owner had a change of heart. And as volunteers, we never know the real story.

Volunteering at the shelter does not give you cause to like humans more.

I used to always be in a hurry to get things done, but when I enter the kennel of a fearful or excited dog, I’ve learned to stop; speak softly; be patient and let them get comfortable with me. The message they send is, “Go at my pace, because I don’t know what you might do.”

I remember this one terribly frightened female. She was a beautiful little thing, but she was terrified of everyone. Tail between her legs. No eye contact. Scared to leave her kennel and so we volunteers took our time. We gently praised her for the tiniest bit of improvement. We would take her into a small room and lie on the floor so she wouldn’t be afraid. We would take her to a quiet spot and just sit with her. One day, her tail wasn’t tucked between her legs and we knew she might be on the path to gaining some confidence. Ever so slowly she began to trust us. Today she’s living her best life with a new family.

Some dogs are pretty aggressive and you have to stop and ask yourself, “Why? What happened to you?” Like people, very few dogs are just born aggressive. They’re taught this behavior.

I’ve spent many an afternoon brushing a dog with tears streaming down my face. And when the dog looks into my eyes with gratitude, there’s a sense of connection and peace. This is how I adopted my senior dog, (Luna), shortly after I began volunteering. She was 10 1/2 years old and her family surrendered her. She was morbidly obese and could barely walk. She was in desperate need of a bath, but more importantly, she was completely shut down. She has the gentlest spirit and I couldn’t comprehend how she ended up at the shelter. Well, you can guess the rest of the story. She now lives with us and her best friend is my other dog, Bailey. She’s lost 24 pounds and she’s a new girl. Watching her come into her personality has brought more joy to my life than I’m sure I’ve brought to hers.

I’m an outgoing person and yet, I’ve found that I’m best with the fearful, shy dogs. The dance of slowing down, speaking gently, offering up the best of me has helped them, but it’s also transformed me.

We don’t deserve these creatures. They love unconditionally and without judgment. They wait faithfully for their owners and somehow remain patient even through their loneliness. We are their world. They serve as emotional support just by being present. Their goofiness brings unabashed joy and they bring comfort to the world. We don’t deserve them.

Overall, volunteering at the shelter has softened my heart; made me slow down; be more patient and make time for what matters most. Caring for the forgotten canines has been the greatest gift.

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Cleaning out my closet is one of my favorite pastimes. I like nothing more than to take everything out of the closet and drawers and reevaluate. Does it fit? No? It goes. There’s no more keeping just in case. Does it have a stain? Yes, but no one can see it or maybe it will work for around the house. Nope. It goes. Has it been worn in the last 18 months? No…it goes too. You get the idea. I no longer stand in my closet wondering what to wear. Everything coordinates in the simplest way.

The bathroom and make-up drawer…oh my God! How have I accumulated so much stuff? Well, it all went away when I was stuck in the house for 10 days during the ice storm. Expiration dates actually mean something. I now have organization and Freedom!

The same system applies my office. Why am I keeping medical records that date back to 2020? Shredded and out!

The kitchen and pantry it seems are always in need of some sort of clearing out.

How about your phone contact list? I recently went through my phone and was amazed at how many people’s names I didn’t even recognize.

It’s easy to get rid of the stuff, but the biggest challenge comes when you realize that your life might be cluttered with some of the wrong people. I find this one difficult because it goes against everything I was raised to believe. Sacrifice to get along. Don’t speak your mind if it’s the least bit controversial. Always be polite. Turn the other cheek. Put on a happy face. And you know what? That doesn’t work for me anymore. Now I pay attention to my gut instincts. How does someone make me feel? Do I enter an encounter feeling upbeat and positive or am I stressed? And how do I feel when I leave? Tuning into my soulful reactions and feelings has made a huge difference in the quality of my life.

Recently, I de-cluttered a person from life and I did it in complete silence. I simply stopped engaging and communicating. This particular person used to take great pleasure in making me the brunt of his jokes. When I told him that his words were often hurtful, he laughed and said, “I do it because I like you so much.” You’ve probably heard someone say that at some time. And for whatever reason, we’ve been taught to believe that. It’s a bunch of garbage. You don’t make fun of someone because you like that person so much. You make fun because you think you can get away with it, and you get some sort of satisfaction out of it. I have a long list of things I no longer tolerate and I have to say, that even though my circle of friends has become smaller; it has also become whole. I don’t need to collect an abundance of things or people anymore. I’m interested way more in quality over quantity.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.

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I was once a teacher of 5th and 6th graders. (This was my chosen career.) Then I was a personal shopper in Beverly Hills, CA; then an event planner and writer for a very high end fitness center in Los Angeles; then a caregiver for my ex father-in-law; then a caregiver expert (still not sure you can be an expert in this field); then a radio talk show host and finally…I became a small business owner of Franklin Flannels, when we decided to leave our lifelong home in Los Angeles and move to Franklin, Tennessee. This is the Reader’s Digest version of my life; but it’s safe to say, I am a chameleon. So as I enter 2026, I’m optimistic than once again…I can gather up all the skills I’ve acquired and finally…without apology…be the woman I am meant to be.

This whole starting over is a bit daunting mainly because for decades I’ve lived with the idea that I don’t ruffle feathers…I fit in…I do the right thing…I get along. But you know what? That way of living doesn’t really work, because one day you wake up from your fog and you realize that you’ve been manipulated into being quiet. Even when I had my own radio talk show, I was the polite, non-confrontational host. Ugh! In every way, ugh!

Then I read, Detoxify, by R.M. Drake and it blew me away. It spoke to me in ways I could never have imagined. And honestly, I’ve been to 5-day seminars, weekend conferences, therapy, but I didn’t have the right frame of mind to step into the fullness of my life. I’m finally ready to take all these life experiences and fully embrace all that God has given me. There’s more to come and I’d love for you to join me in this journey.

Somewhere along the way, society decided women over seventy should be quieter, smaller, and grateful just to be included. I’m pretty sure I missed that meeting. Aging doesn’t mean fading out—it means leveling up, with better instincts, sharper judgment, and a very well-calibrated BS detector.

This Substack is for real talk with a wink. It’s a happy place for me and hopefully you, too. I’ll be writing about life, manners (something we need more of), money (because I’m still working on this one), pets, relationships, reinvention, and the curious freedom that comes when you stop explaining yourself and worrying about what everyone else thinks! Expect honesty, humor, and opinions softened only by experience—not age.

If you’re tired of being talked down to, written off, or told “you don’t look your age” like it’s a compliment, pull up a chair. Welcome to Seventy, Sassy and Smart. We’re just getting started.

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Here I write about aging with honesty, humor, and backbone. My perspective is shaped by lived experience, sharp observation, and a lifelong belief that manners, civility, self-respect, and common sense never go out of style. I’m especially interested in what happens when women stop apologizing for their age—and start owning their voice.

Seventy, Sassy and Smart is my place to say the quiet parts out loud, challenge worn out assumptions about aging, and remind readers that wisdom isn’t something to downplay—it’s something to use. Seventy, Sassy and Smart is where experience meets attitude—and age is worn like a badge of honor. Come along. It will be fun.

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