Category: TBI

I Write Because

In my head, words are perfectly chosen. Phrases? Pithy and erodite. However, somewhere during the journey from brain to hand, those words and pithy phrases get tangled. It’s a frustrating result of too many concussions. I write because I yearn to get the words correct and the thoughts out of my head and down to…

Now That Cupid Found Death, The Aftermath Begins

My computer is filled with images of Jessica. Candids and group shots alike as chronicled by the various events, activities, and random moments of living over the last six months. I found myself scrolling through them earlier and now I struggle with the question: am I capturing life, creating memories with my omnipresent camera or am I chronicling death?

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Wall to Wall.”

The Pantone Color of the Year was has never been the color paint on the walls of my living space. Of course, the walls of my living space are not mine to paint. I can hang things on them. I haven’t. Not sure if there is a “Yet” to be added as a modifier to the previous statement. A tall dressers, a bookcase, a desk, and a general storage unit that was marketed under the “TV Stand with media storage” heading serve to fill wall space pretty well. Moreover, I’m able to strike a balance between showing some personal belongings and utilizing the drawers, shelving space, and various organizational essentials (in interesting shapes and colors) to private things from being on display. This feels important because living in an assisted living facility, privacy is really but an illusion.

To stand and do a 360, one gets a god general overview of the essence of me: I’ve got a PowerPort that is accessed 24/7, so there is quite a bit of medical supplies and I.V. equipment tucked around. I had to move here and either bring, store it, of lose it, so I’ve more life in here than most other residents. But then and again, I have to manage my own life still, so a base of operations is essential.

The wall of my room are safe. You want to know me, try gaining access to my digital world. The various screens on my iPads, laptop, phone, my playlists, photos (and the organizational structure therein), the people I’ll accept as friends on social networks and then the access to information assigned to various groups, even which emails rank VIP, flagged, junk, or standard status will tell you much more about me than anything I’d ever display for anyone to see who may just happen by one day.

I think, in fact, the beige walls paint the truth of willingness to disclose to those who know me well and paint the perfect picture of my complete lack of interest in engaging with the general public. Who knew….

If I’m going to use it in the title, I better link to the video–just in care an Dreaming in Digital sounded famililar.

Narrative On My Life

My blog posts get precious few veiws in a day. Or week. To those of you who continue reading, commenting and/or following my, thank you. Perhaps you have noitced that the general theme of my posts has been less than conversational. Im feeling less than chatty these days. I’ve got lot on my mind. Can’t…

Waiting On Death

I’m the only one in the building who knows the bulk of the reality. It’s a heavy load. Not the fact that I’m the keeper of such important and private news, but that I’m stuck here, helpless to do anything to help a family I’ve grown to love. I tell myself that being on the…

The Little Things

I’ve learned it’s best to sit and watch, listen more than talk, smile with my eyes as much as my mouth, and always, ALWAYS, be prepared to photograph the mundane. A candid shot of mundane in my world is often an action shot to someone’s son or daughter. Proof of life being lived or comfort…

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