My mother told us stories about my father and her going to America for a year in 1946 aboard a war time troop carrier. It was an uncomfortable experience, evidently. And coming back was equally entertaining. Continue reading
I staggered along to the Doctor. I thought I might have Shingles again, my pain is so intense. He says no. The doctor says no. Actually the Nurse Practitioner said no. It can’t be shingles because the blistery sore on my left leg is not on a ‘nerve path’. So it’s no. And if it were Shingles, it’s too late to treat it. Continue reading
I have always written this blog as “The Last Furlong”. I make everything short and sweet and topics can be about absolutely anything I feel like posting. There’s no set theme. Continue reading
Mr Furlong and I have taken to sleeping in separate beds. We don’t “fit” anymore.
I have a sore wrist and forearm that only troubles me at night and I have to stretch it out on the bed to get comfortable. And Mr Furlong has shoulder pain for which he has to do the same.
But in the opposite direction. Continue reading
The Furlong family in general have never had to care for dying people for months or even years. The Furlong family ancestors mostly shut up shop quickly and considerately. Us old Furlongs believe in finishing your business before you die and giving your permission to the dying that dying is ok – we all do it! Continue reading
This Furlong, is profoundly moved by the closure of a blog I follow. Well, I really follow the personality of the blogger writing the blog. The person is dying, and today, they closed their blog. Continue reading