My Home

 

At 84 years old, this is where I will end my days.

My peaceful, almost one acre paradise here in southern coastal Delaware. 

Great neighborhood, wonderful neighbors, privacy, quiet, low taxes, mild climate and mortgage free. 

Don't tell anyone.

The Road I Chose

In a few months I will be eighty-five years old. Something I never would have believed if you had asked me twenty years ago when I retired from a full-time job. 

But here I am, approaching my nineties. To tell you the truth folks, I don’t want to be ninety years old. I’ve lived a good life. A good long life. 

Lots of interesting things have happened and continue to happen in my life Just last year I remarried again after my partner then husband of fifty-nine years died. He was ninety-five years old. He also had a good life (with me for much of it) but the last three years of his life was misery for him. He was blind, couldn’t swallow food and needed full-time care. We were both fortunate enough that I was healthy enough to keep him at our home which he loved so much. My promise to him as it was with my Mother, was to never put them in a facility. The “facilities” are actually warehouses of death that just drain one’s lifetime accumulation of wealth. Not that they aren’t solutions for some from children who don’t want to care for their parents to the widow who doesn’t want to spend her final years alone in a big house. I know all this first hand and I know the solution I wanted for my Mother and for my late husband. Now it is my turn.

Since Bill (my former husband) died two and a half years ago my health has gone down hill. Maybe when I was caring for Bill I pulled on my adrenaline reserves. I don’t know how I was able to care for him by myself (with help from the VA and Delaware Hospice) but I managed to keep him home until the last three days of his life. His health finally got to the point where he was unconscious and kept sliding on the floor. The instructions the hospice workers gave me for injecting pain relief morphine into Bill was just too much for me. I had finally reached my limit and I could no longer take care of Bill by myself. Delaware Hospice saw my dilemma and removed him on a Wednesday night. Bill lasted two and a half days at the Delaware Hospice center in Milford. I spent the first night with him and the next two days. I wanted to be with Bill when he died but I didn’t want to drive at night so, except for the first night which I stayed with him, I left at the end of the day before darkness fell. Early Saturday morning (a little after one AM) I received a call from Delaware Hospice. I knew. 

They informed me that Bill had died at 12:20 AM. 

My life hasn’t been the same since. 

At first I was in shock that this man who had been so much a part of my life (we met when I was twenty-two years old and he thirty-five years old). Of course I knew he was going to die, we often talked about it. But this was a man who I lived with almost my entire adult life. Now I was alone. It took about three days for the shock of his death to sink in. Knowing that I would never see him again in this life. 

I’ve experienced death before in my life and one time experienced grief. I probably should be ashamed to admit this but the most grief I ever experienced until Bill died was when my little sixteen year old five pound orange Pomeranian dog “Horace” died. We were best buddies. Of all the dogs that have been in my life, Horace was the one who chose me. When he died, I cried for the first time in my life. “So this is what grief is like?” I thought. Oh how little did I know. After the initial shock of Bill’s death wore off, then The Grief set in. Now two and a half years later it is still here and will be until my last dying breath. Even though I got married to a wonderful man last November, a good friend who I’ve known for thirteen years, it’s not the same. He lives in Canada. We’re working on getting his green card. And when he does get his green card he won’t live with me full-time. Part time at best. I will continue to live in my home of the past twenty years here in Delaware. There is so much of Bill in this house which I will continue to call “Casa Tipton-Kelly”, that the only way I will leave is on a gurney with a white sheet pulled over my head. Bill left this house on a gurney but that white sheet wasn’t pulled over his head. Mine will be different. 

Bill and I both loved the woods. Our house in Pennsylvania was on 6.875 acres of wooded hillside land. We had to move because in retirement we could no longer afford to pay the high Pennsylvania taxes. Like many others retirees from the high tax states of New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania; we moved to Delaware which is much more retiree friendly. In the past twenty years I tried to replicate our .97 acres of flat coastal land into our own personal wooded oasis. I have been somewhat successful. Bill always enjoyed walking out in our backyard, even during his final months when he was blind (macular degeneration) and couldn’t fully see all the wooded fauna that I had personally planted over the past twenty years since we moved into our newly build home. We had no mortgage on our home. Only one tax, which was in three digits. No other taxes. To his dying day Bill missed our home in Pennsylvania but I had no other choice. I had to move to Delaware if we were to survive. Most of our new neighbors in our newly build development made the same decision. We all had that reason for living in Delaware in common. 

Bill is in Heaven now. Occasionally he stops by via a burned out Christmas light that I had strung up in our living room year round. Bill’s form of macular degeneration was that he couldn’t see out of the center of his eyes. He could only see peripheral vision. He could see colors. He loved the colors of those Christmas lights. That’s why I left them up year round and I will continue to do so until I am no longer in this/our house. 

During the last year of Bill’s life we had talked about “what was on the other side.” I told him “If there is something there, try to contact me.” And indeed he did. A few days after he died, while I was in our kitchen my peripheral vision saw something blinking. Our house has an open concept kitchen that looks out over the living room. 

Again, I saw something blinking! I looked up and there it was! That burned out light I was thinking of replacing. “Why is that light blinking when the other burned out lights don’t blink?” I thought. After a few more rapid blinks then I got the message. Of course, it was Bill! So appropriate too because Bill’s occupation while he was alive was as an electrician. Since that first night of contact over two years ago, Bill has come back many times. Often when I need him during a stressful period or just sometimes when I’m lonely. He is there. I believe. I don’t have to convince anyone else what is happening. I know what is real for me and that is all that matters.

Now that I am at the end of my learning experience during this lifetime, I have no fear of death. Of course I am a little concerned how I get there. I don’t want a prolonged or painful death where I am a burden to anyone. That’s why I have decided to take advantage of Delaware’s new right to die law that became in effect this past January 1st. My doctor gives me six months or less to live, I’m making my final plans. I don’t know what I’m going to die of. My prostate cancer has returned for which I’m not seeking treatment. I have a heart condition. I have trouble walking. 

I take one day at a time though. No more medical treatments to prolong my life. I’m done with treatments. I live each day here in the comfort of my home with all my memories of Bill. My new husband visits me four times a year for two weeks at a time. 

These days I tire easily. I take a lot of naps. However, I’m still able to keep up my home. I cook for myself. I tend my almost once acre oasis. I pay my bills. I enjoy my privacy. My neighbors are wonderful. Best neighbors I’ve ever had in my lifetime. 

One day I will no longer be here. I write this on my Substack account because I feel a need to leave a little of something behind once I leave. Maybe there is or will be someone like me out “there” who will find my experience of dealing with the end of my life interesting. If not, that’s alright too. Writing for me has been by whole life a form of therapy for me. 

That said, I’m done with his stream of consciousness. 

Have a wonderful day everyone!

Living Out Of My Car?

Every day I thank the Heavens above that I have a home that is bought and paid for.

This is something I worked my whole life for. To own my own home, mortgage free.

It took many years and there were a few scary times when I almost lost everything, but I’m here now.

My home is in southern coastal Delaware, near Rehoboth Beach. 

Ironically I was a Beach Person in my younger days (I’m 84 now) but these days, in the twilight of my life, I never go to the beach. First for the obvious reasons, I don’t need anymore skin cancer pop ups for my dermatologist to burn off, but the main reason is that going to the beach just isn’t my in my interests these days. What is in my interests is living comfortable in my home until I meet my Maker in the Great Sky above.

Recently I discovered a Substack post of a guy who looked a lot like Pat, my current husband. He’s living out of his car. Something I could never do. He has a good reason to live out of his car, he doesn’t want to pay the exorbitantly high cost of housing himself in today’s economy. I can’t say I blame him. If I was just starting out today I couldn’t afford housing either. My first rental I was paying eight dollars a week for a one room efficiency apartment in Pittsburgh, PA. Before that I had free housing in the U.S. Army at Fort George G. Meade, Maryland. But I could never live out of my car. Mainly because I value my privacy too much. Another good reason is that now I am eighty-four years old I have physical limitations. I don’t walk steady. I need a lot of rest (heart problems). I don’t do stress sell in my old age dotage. This guy’s Substack I’m reading, he’s young (relatively 65 or so) and doesn’t require “things” like I do. He’s a minimalist. I’m not. I like my “things”. They invoke fond memories for me of my life with my previous partner/husband whom I was with for fifty-nine years. 

My current husband, who is a minimalist and a Canadian, could probably live out of his car if he had a bigger one. He has a Fiat now. He lives in a small house that isn’t more than five hundred square feet and has minimal “things.” If he gets a new T-shirt a new pair of pants, he donates his old T-shirts and pants to Sallie Mae (as he calls the Salvation Army.) I admire him but I could never live that way. I have oodles of shirts and pants and out clothing which I will probably never wear in whatever remains of my life but I’m keeping them. I even have about forty neck ties from my former banking job. I keep them under my care in my two walk in closets until I depart this earth. My current husband will gladly and quickly dispose of those items. No problem there.

Pictured above is an older photo of me with my Subaru Forester taken a few years ago.  I now own a Hyundai Venue which is even small that my Subaru Forester.  It would be a tight fit for me to move and sleep in the back of my Venue. No thank you.

Every night I lay my old, tired body in my queen sized bed on my air foam mattress and enter my Dreamworld where, hopefully, one day I will be reunited in spirit with my former husband who was and is my soulmate. 

When I go to sleep at night all is quiet around me. No noisy neighbors. No mortgage other worry about. Only thing I have to worry about is that I don’t fall when I get up multiple times in the night to take a pee in my bathroom. 

I’m a Happy Camper. Right here in my own home. 

The Pain Never Goes Away

 

Bill's 88th birthday picture September 26, 2016

Bill died almost three years ago.

There is not one day that goes by that I don't think of him and miss him.

After fifty-nine and a half years together, almost my whole adult life (since I was twenty-two years old), it's not hard to understand.

I thought with time I would get used to not having Bill in my life. How foolish I was to think that.

I now realize that until my dying day, I will have to endure the pain and grief of not having him in my life.

The last three years of Bill's life I was his full-time caregiver. In many way, even though it was very difficult for the both of us, those were our best years together. 

The love we had for each other even grew stronger.

When Bill died that early Saturday morning, the first thing I felt was relief. 

Relief that his suffering had ended. Little did I realize my suffering was just beginning. 

Initially I was in shock even though I had expected that call from Delaware Hospice which Bill had entered the previous Wednesday evening.

Then I had a feeling which I didn't expect at all. I felt like I had lost control over caring for Bill. 

Who would care for him now?

The last forty years of our lives together, since he retired early at fifty-five years of age, I had taken care of running our household. I saw that the bills were paid. I was the interface with the outside world that Bill didn't like to deal with. I ran interference for him. Now I could no longer do that. 

Bill always depended on me. Now who would take care of him? Of course the answer is God. Or that Supreme Being in the Afterlife that we will all eventually get to meet. 

I still had mixed feelings about losing control over caring for Bill. After all I had dealt with the Veterans Administration all these years and if I could get through THAT, I could do just about anything (smile). 

So here we go folks. Ron bemoaning the fact that I still miss Bill. I try to tell myself that I'm not the only one in this situation but that doesn't help. The hurt of not having Bill in my life will stay with me for all the rest of my days on this earth. This is a fact that I just have to accept. In the meantime, I count down the days until Bill and I reunite again in Heaven.

And by the way, this doesn't mean I don't love Pat. I do but it is a different kind of love. Not the kind Bill and I had. I will always remember what Bill said to me about a week and a half before he died. He called me aside and said "Something different has happened." I think he meant he knew he was going to die soon. Then he said something that just melted me. He said "When I die, I want you and Pat to be very happy." That was Bill, always thinking of me. 

Few people had the kind of love that Bill and I had for almost sixty years. For that I am so grateful. 

There, now I feel better that I spilled out my feelings again. Back to normal tomorrow but I will always continue to miss Bill. Until the day I die. Then, if there is a Heaven, our spirits will be reunited forever.

That is the way it is meant to be, will me and Bill.

Summer 1962

 

1962 Chesapeak City, Maryland
Pictured from left to right, bottom row Dessie, me and Dave M.
Top row Ed C. and George B. All gone now except for me and Dave

Sixty four years ago I was in the Army stationed at Fort George G. Meade, Maryland. I worked for the National Security Agency. 

I was able to go home almost every weekend. I also had leave time. "Leave Time" is Army talk for vacation time. 

During my time at Ft. Meade one of my very good friends was a guy from Georgia named Dessie Stroud. Of course he couldn't go home on weekends like I did. Occasionally he would go home with me just to break the routine of hanging around the Army base on the weekends. 

One stretch of time I think he took some leave and spent a few days at my friend Bill B's family cottage near Chesapeak City, Maryland. Bill had a boat. A speed boat. It was fun to drive around the Chesapeak Bay in. 

One weekend two of our high school friends and one of Bill B's friends took over "The Cottage" for the weekend. Oh we had a grand time. I remember that long weekend well. Dave M. had one of those old VW buses. We drove around town like the carefree twenty year olds we were. Interestingly enough, I haven't been back to that cottage since. Actually my friend Bill B.'s family sold that cottage but he has another one which he has invited me too often. It's now that far from where I live in Delaware. I would like to go on a speed boat ride again before I check out. I think Pat would like that too. 

I'll put this one on my Bucket List.

P.S.

One of those guys was my very first crush/boyfriend. I'll never tell. 

My Backyard Oasis

 With all the chaos that is going in the world today I am so thankful for my almost once acre backyard oasis that I built by hand for the last twenty years.

Today, as I listen to the summertime visitors speed down to Rehoboth Beach and further shore destinations, I am so appreciative that I have a place to escape to peace and quiet. 

I took this three minute video to share with my faithful blog followers and anyone else who happens to stumble over my blog and wonder "What the hell is this?"

Now I'll post this and go out and feed my pond goldfish. They await me.

Have a great and peaceful day everyone!

Rehoboth Beach 2026

Rehoboth Beach Boardwalk tonight

Rehoboth Beach boardwalk tonight.

I captured this picture from my Facebook account. Daily someone posts pictures of Rehoboth Beach.

Each summer I like to go down at least once during the day and, hopefully, once during the evening. If I do the evening it has to be only when Pat is here because I don't drive at night anymore.

The Rehoboth Beach boardwalk is only ten miles down the road from where I live in my "Not Many People Can Afford To Live Here" development of Covington Chase. Fancy name eh?

This year it doesn't look like I'll trod on the Rehoboth Beach boardwalk at night this summer. Perhaps in the fall when Pat is scheduled to visit again. He visits me quarterly. Whereas in the past we used to get together and travel to either Philadelphia, Canada, and Palm Springs. These days, when both Pat and I are cash restricted, we're not making those destinations anymore or as much as we used too. It's expensive, especially now with the economy the way it is (inflation, tariffs, cost of living for those of us on fixed incomes).

I love my home here in Covington Chase. It's nice and quiet but occasionally, I do like to get out and mix it up with the summertime crowd. To experience that "summer vibe." Probably not going to happen this year. 

Where I've Been

 

Bill's little memorial flower patch, right beneath my bedroom window. 

Nowhere.

I'm doing a bit of a reset in my daily routine folks.

There are a couple reasons. 

First, I have to stay within my budget. 

I'm naturally a spendaholic. Comes naturally to me. Been fighting it all my life. I don't have a choice now what with my income the only cash flow here at Casa Tipton-Kelly. 

Since Bill died and I haven't returned to work at the hotel, my household income has been cut in half. I can still manage to pay the necessary bills like electric, heat, Internet, phone, insurance (biggest bills by far) and food (smallest bills but not so much anymore). And lawn maintenance. That's a biggie but I do like a nice lawn and I can't mow it anymore myself so I pay José to mow it once a week. After I'm done paying the necessary bills, there isn't much left over. 

I'm not complaining, just stating facts. I am fortunate in that I don't have a mortgage payment. But with the cost of living going up double digits every year I'm falling behind. 

I admit I suffer the most common reason for being a spendaholic, buying things makes me feel good. I remember watching an Oprah show many years ago. I always used to feel superior when she had a show about people with various addictions. I knew I wasn't one of them until she had a show on spendaholics. I fit every symptom. Every one. It was embarrassing.

So in order not to spend money unnecessarily, I don't go out. Also, another reason I don't go out now as much as I used to is because of the heavy summer tourist traffic here in southern coastal Delaware where I live. Casa Tipton-Kelly borders Route One (Coastal Highway that goes all the way to Florida). That's a racetrack out there folks. If I do have to go out say to the supermarket to replenish supplies I go early Saturday or Sunday morning. The only other times I go out are for my doctor's appointments of which I have plenty now that I am old, feeble and failing. I try to arrange those doctors' appointments in Milton away from the Rehoboth Beach area. Usually my doctors' appointments come in bunches. I just finished a bunch when Pat was down here last month. I'm trying to arrange them again for when he visits again. Otherwise I'm on my own like next month when I have my regular six month VA checkup and my foot doctor appointment which happens every three months (I can't cut my toenails anymore).

So I don't go out much anymore but don't cry for me Argentina. I have plenty to do here at Casa Tipton-Kelly. I have more than enough yard work and there is the fish pond. When it's really hot and humid outside, like it has been most of this summer, I stay inside here and watch You Tube, post to my Threads account, talk to Pat on FaceTime and cook. I used to watch movies on my Netflix account but I suspended my account because I can't find any movies that I like. I wasted my money for far too long with my Netflix account. That suspension was long overdue. Lately I've been getting back into updating my Ancestry.com family tree information, which I've neglected for far too long. I really enjoy updating my family tree. I have tons of information backed up that needs posting and my Ancestry.com is another account that I've subscribed to over the years that I haven't been using. Time to make use of that subscription. 

My only problem now is not to sit too long at this computer because my legs swell up. I asked Alexa to remind me to get up every hour so at least I can move around and get the blood flowing in my legs. My heart blood flow is weak and getting weaker by the day so I have to take these measures.

So there you go folks. That's where I've been. 

Have a great day everyone!

The Muggies

 

Yesterday's visitor to my butterfly bush

Another hot, muggy day today.

I can't take the humidity.

Last night it rained. Lightening, thunderstorms, winds. Then this morning, humidity lays heavy on. the landscape here in southern coastal Delaware. 

This is to be expected since I live on a peninsula surrounded by water, much like Florida.

On days like this I stay inside my house. It's too dangerous for me to go outside in this heat and humidity. Literally, too dangerous. A few times I almost didn't make it back inside before I passed out. This is the main reason I pay Jose to mow my lawn weekly, which he does every Wednesday (today).

I could stay all day at my computer here in the house but after a while my lower legs swell up. I have poor blood flow. If I take a daily walk it helps to keep my legs from swelling up. I wish I had one of those suburban malls close by that I could take one of those daily old people walks around the mall.

Last night I was up until after two AM. Usually I don't stay up that late but some nights I'm just not sleepy. I did get a good sleep in though and got up later (about 7:30 AM) that I usually do. Lately I've been waking up at 4:30 or 5 AM and can't get back to sleep. I sense "something" is going on. My appetite has changed too. I'm just not that hungry anymore. I've lost weight but not that much so far. About eight to ten pounds. Maybe this all is just an "old age" thing. But I do feel I'm transitioning to a different phase.

Today I will take a lot of time correcting and updating my family tree on Ancestry.com. Something I've been meaning to do for years but life caught up with me the last four or five years. Three years full-time caregiver for Bill and then over two years grieving for his loss. I'll always grieve over not having Bill in my life to love and take care off but I feel it is time to move on now and get ready for my grand exit. But before that happens, some loose ends to clean up. Of course I'll never have all of them cleaned up but I'll do what I can. I don't want to leave too much of a mess for Pat.

Stay cool today folks!

Memories of Bill - 2015

Apple has a nice feature on my iMac. It's called Memory. It randomly selects photos and videos I've taken and chooses a theme and presents these compilations to me occasionally. A few days ago they presented to me several Memory videos of the years I was taking Bill to his various doctors' appointments and caring for him. The years range from 2015 to 2019 with the exception of the year 2017 which I wasn't able to transfer over other my You Tube account. Occasionally I will be posting these Memory compilation videos to this blog in memory of Bill. 

I don't think there is a day that has gone by since Bill died early Saturday morning February 22, 2024 that I haven't thought of him and missed him terribly. The initial shock of grief has lessened somewhat overtime but I know now this grief over not having Bill in your life will never leave me as long as I am alive on this earth in this lifetime. By posting these videos I honor and keep his memory alive.  

Ron On The Roof

 

Me dead heading flowers a the top of our roof garden when we lived in Center City Philadelphia July of 1976

These days I can hardly stand on a three step ladder. 

Yesterday I came across a still of an 8mm film of me on the roof of our big house in Pennsylvania. I wanted to post that picture today but I can't find it now. I'll find it eventually. 

I found them! 

Bill worked at the top of the Sears Tower in Chicago. I can't quite match his feat. I just get dizzy seeing videos of people atop high buildings. 

Play This Song At My Funeral

 

About five years ago I heard an instrumental version of this song on my Bose radio playlist. I did not know the lyrics but the song seemed very familiar. Listening to the melody choked me up and brought tears to my eyes.

"Where did I hear this song?" I thought. I racked my brain and couldn't figure it out but the familiarity was there. I thought maybe I heard it in one of those old Western movies where pioneers were trekking across America via the Oregon trail, dodging Indian attacks,  the sweltering heat and blizzards to finally arrive at their new home in the West. I looked up the lyrics 

"If you miss the train I'm on, you will know that I am gone

You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles,
A hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles,
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles.

Lord I'm one, Lord I'm two, Lord I'm three, Lord I'm four,
Lord I'm 500 miles from my home.
500 miles, 500 miles, 500 miles, 500 miles
Lord I'm five hundred miles from my home.

Not a shirt on my back, not a penny to my name
Lord I can't go a-home this a-way
This a-away, this a-way, this a-way, this a-way,
Lord I can't go a-home this a-way.

If you miss the train I'm on you will know that I am gone
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles.
A hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles,
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles."

Nope. That wasn't where I heard this song. But I do know why this song is familiar.

As you know I believe in the Afterlife. We're just here on earth in this body to learn. Our real home is in the Afterlife or as others call it.....Heaven.

Now when I die, and we all die. I know I've talked about my impeding demise often on this blog but it is going to happen....eventually. I don't know if there will be a service for me. A funeral or a memorial. I have requested than there be none but once I'm gone, I no longer have any control over what happens to mark my time on earth in this iteration of one or my many lives. But if there is a service please play this song "500 Miles." And preferable the Peter, Paul and Mary version. Coincidentally, Mary and I share the same birthday, November 9th. I knew there was a connection!

And please, PLEASE......DO NOT PLAY "AMAZING GRACE." I swear to God, almost every funeral or memorial service I've attended they play "Amazing Grace." This was particularly graceless when my cousin Bud died. He was the same age as me. He loved "Phantom of the Opera." He wanted that song played at his funeral. His caregiver, his sister, chose not to play it because she thought it would be "inappropriate." And yes, she had "Amazing Grace" played at his funeral. 

Pat (or whoever) will take care of my final exit, DO NOT PLAY "AMAZING GRACE" AT MY FUNERAL. 

Play this song......"500 Miles." To me, this is the perfect sendoff for me in this life of mine. Especially the Peter, Paul and Mary version. 

Thank you folks and have a wonderful day and week!

Company Visits!

Today would have been me and Bill's 62nd anniversary.

Bill and I met for the first time July 3rd, 1964 at the Westbury Bar in Philadelphia, PA.

Forty-nine years later on this day, we were married on the exact day of our meeting which just happened to be the first day same sex marriage was allowed in Delaware.

Me and Bill and Jack and Judy at our wedding July 3, 2013

My good friends Jack and Judy were our witnesses. I've known Judy since high school, we graduated together. They were in town to celebrate their 65th wedding anniversary. Jack and Judy used to live here in Delaware for many years. A few years ago they decided to move back to Pennsylvania, where we are all from, to be closer to their children. They have seven children and multiple grandchildren. Judy had asked if she and Jack could stop by for a visit before they checked into their two week rental in nearby Lewes, where they used to live. When I was building Casa Tipton-Kelly twenty years ago, Jack and Judy let me stay at their home in Lewes while they spent the winter months at their home in Florida.

Now their children are scattered across the United States. From Boston to Los Angeles. The next two weeks is to be a gathering of their extended family. The video at the beginning of this post is of their daughter and son who arrived from Boston. I was gathering them for a group family photo. You know me and photos. I love to take photos and videos.

Their visit on this sweltering heat (99 degrees 110 degrees heat index with the humidity) was two fold. First to visit me and secondly because they needed a place to stay until they could check in to their house rentals later today.

I have to say this is the most guests I've ever had at Casa Tipton-Kelly. Bill and I were very private people and I continue to be private. Same with Pat. Today's visit was quite a departure for me. While I enjoyed seeing Jack and Judy again, and meeting some of their children for the first time, the whole experience left me a little discombobulated. That's not a bad thing, just something I'm not used to. From asking them all to remove their shoes before setting foot into Casa Tipton-Kelly to taking her children on a tour, something I'm not used to doing and I doubt if I ever will again in this lifetime. Bill and I used to joke about our home in Pennsylvania, that when we moved that beautiful home would probably be the site of many a family gathering and parties galore.

All told, today's visit was very nice. We all went to lunch at the Zava Cafe in nearby Milton. 

I preferred going to one of our many fine Mexican restaurants (any excuse for me to get a frozen Margarita on a hot day like today) but the patriarch of the clan doesn't like Mexican food. Zava Cafe was fine. Also, since I was one of the drivers (I drove Judy in my new car, "The Princess") I could only have an iced tea.

So that was my day. How was yours?

 

Heat Wave

 

The back deck of Casa Tipton-Kelly during this heat wave

Thank God for air conditioning!

Can you imagine living in Europe, where they don't believe in air conditioning? I would be one of those old folk fatalities that you read about who died from heat exhaustion if I lived in Europe.

This morning I made an early morning run to my local supermarket before the heat and Fourth of July tourist onslaught began. The traffic and heat were fine when I left at 6:45 AM. Not so much when I return ed at 7:30 AM. I sat a good ten minutes in my car waiting for a break from the south bound traffic coming from the north on Route One.  Casa Tipton-Kelly is located on the other side of Route One. Always a challenge getting home in the summertime from the summertime hordes.

The rest of the day I will stay inside here at my oasis from the heat, chaos and turmoil of the outside world. 

Tomorrow I'm having company. Old friends who rented a beach house to celebrate their 65th wedding anniversary with their extended family. Checkin isn't until later in the afternoon and they need a place to stay out of the heat if they come down earlier. That place would be right here at Casa Tipton-Kelly. Originally they were going to stay overnight (they are always welcome) but decided not to this time. We will also go out to lunch. I suggested one of my favorite local Mexican restaurants. 

My Canadian husband at that favorite local Mexican restaurant in Milton

I could use a frozen margarita in this steam bath that is southern Delaware.

Twelve Years Ago today June 2014

 

Twelve years ago today, my late husband Bill Kelly visited our nearby town of Milton, Delaware.

This video popped up on my feed this morning and I want to share it with you.

I am so thankful that I have these video memories of my special time with Bill, fifty-nine and half years. We almost made it to sixty until he died two and a half years ago in February of 2014.

There is not a day that goes by that I don't think and miss Bill terribly. I was truly blessed to have him in my life. Without him in my life I'm only a half person that I was. Oh for sure, I love Pat but with Bill, he was and is my soulmate.

The day will come when we are rejoined together for eternity in Heaven. I look forward to that day.

Dance With Abandon

 

This is a short video I took of Hunters, a gay dance bar in Palm Springs, California during my visit February 16, 2019.

We were all dancing with abandon, not realizing our world was about to change with COVID just around the corner.

When I returned home, Bill, my husband of fifty-nine year, had two strokes. For the next three years I was his full-time caregiver until he died in February of 2024.

Last year I visited Palm Springs again with Pat but didn't go to Hunters because I had a lot on my mind. I considered my visit to Palm Springs the last time in this life. I've changed my mind though. Since I found out that my prostate cancer has not spread, I think I'll visit Palm Springs again this February. I'll have to check the finances to see if I can swing it. I'm getting to the end of this lifetime. I would like to have at least one more party. Too much is going on in the world now and I need some happy times. 

Philadelphia Skyline June 2026

 

Last week while Pat and I were visiting our longtime friend Don McK. in Philadelphia, I took this short video of Pat and Don on the roof of the building where he lives at 21st and Chestnut Streets in Center City Philadelphia. 

Checkout that skyline. I think Philly has the best skyline of any city in the United States.

I thought our visit to Don would be my last visit. He's eighty nine years old and I was under the assumption that my prostate cancer had spread and I would be long for this world. Now with the positive results of my PET-SCAN this week, I'm making plans to visit Don again. Pat will be down this fall and that's when we'll be up on Don's roof again with that fabulous view of Philadelphia's skyline. 

Good News!

GOOD NEWS! I just received the results of my PET-SCAN that I took today. Here is the specific wording: "No evidence of metastatic disease or adenopathy". Then the report goes into more detail but there is no evidence of prostate cancer. The only negative, which I expected, "The heart if enlarged. There are extensive atherosclerotic coronary artery calcifications" I knew I had this condition. But the really good news is that your prayers worked. 

I DON'T HAVE PROSTATE CANCER!

PET-SCAN Today

 

Me, Milton Delaware June 29, 2014. Shortly after I received my first treatment for my prostate cancer. This time I'm not seeking treatment. I'm ready to rejoin Bill in Heaven. No more medical procedures for this 84 year old.

Today at 1:15 PM I get my PET-SCAN.

My urologist suggested that I get this six months ago to see if and how far my returning prostate cancer has spread. 

It has been frustrating getting this appointment. The local hospital has changed my appointment three times. My original appointment was when Pat was here. Then they changed it to July 2nd. I called and complained that I didn't want to travel down tourist ladened Route One so close to the Fourth of July. In the past Route One has been a parking lot. Pat and I already experienced that parking lot traffic jam last week. I've had medical appointments in the summer tourist season before and been late for them. Each year the traffic gets worse. This year so far has already proved that. I'm nervous enough about getting another IV poked in my arm and being in a tube for an extended length of time then sitting around for about two hours. I don't need the added stress of being stuck in a typical summertime Rehoboth Beach Route One (Coastal Highway) parking lot.

I've already made the decision not to seek further treatment for my prostate cancer even though my doctor seems anxious to begin that process. I'm done with treatments, especially the side effects. 

I'm old enough now (84) to call it quits on this life. I've had a wonderful life and I certainly don't want to spend whatever time I have left like my brother John, friend Rich, friend Larry and many others struggling through each day dealing with the side effects of their treatments. And I certainly don't want to be dependent on anyone to take care of me. Be it Pat or some other person who I have to pay. I choose to spend my remaining days as I am now, independent and able to take care of myself. When that is no longer viable then I will take advantage of Delaware's right to die law, which became effective this year. 

That's it for now. 

Have a great day!

Summertime 2026 Updates

 

Summer is upon us.

Pat will be down this Sunday for a couple weeks. He's my driver to my multitude of doctor's appointments in the next two weeks. 

Pat is a big help. I'm not that comfortable driving anymore, especially in this Rehoboth Beach/Lewes Delaware summertime traffic, which becomes heavier and more dense each year. It's already started. If I have to go out, I go out early in the morning before the hordes descend upon Route One (Coastal Highway) to their beach destinations Rehoboth Beach and beyond. 

One of my doctor's appointments is to get a PET-SCAN to see how far my returning prostate cancer has spread. I'm pretty sure I'm in the same boat that former president Biden is in, the cancer has spread to my bones. I'm in pain almost every waking hour. Not excruciating pain (yet) but it's just hard for me to move around. Some of that may be my arthritis. I'm good in the morning but as the day progresses the pain becomes so much that I have to lie down, sometimes taking an Advil. I try to avoid getting in the habit though of taking Advil every day though, just if the pain is too much. Thank goodness lying down on my back alleviates the pain. 

These days I'm taking two naps. One in the morning around 10:30 AM and the other in the afternoon around 3:30 PM until 6:00 PM. Yes, my naps are that long. I usually go to bed about 11 PM but I wind down much earlier. I do get up early in the morning though, around 5:30 AM up until 7 AM. I never have been one of those late sleepers. Pat is. He's a late sleeper. I think I got out of that habit when I was a teenager and missed my school bus ride once. I made a vow then to never sleep late although I did miss my class trip to New York City because I over slept. That's something I've regretted my whole life, missing that trip.

Back to my PET-SCAN. Earlier this week I received an e-mail from Beebe (the hospital) to check in early on my computer. I took the half hour or so to check in early including entering all my medications and a lot of other unnecessary information only to get down to the "SUBMIT" button, which when I hit "ENTER" it said my appointment was CANCELLED! What? I just spent all that time on my computer with AI checking in and they cancel my appointment? Sure! So I called, and called, and called. These days they have automated assistants to answer the phones, otherwise know as AI. Well, not to bore you but I spent half my morning trying to get through to the hospital only to find they had changed my appointment to July 2nd! July 2nd? This is the height of the summertime traffic, Fourth of July weekend and to top everything else off, Pat wouldn't be here to take me to my appointment. Also I would have to change my appointment with my urologist because this is when I was going to inform him that I'm not seeking further treatment for my prostate cancer. I had planned all this discussion for when Pat was here. All that was out the window now because obviously someone more important than me has bumped my appointment. By the way, this is the second time my appointment has been changed. 

I plunged in again and tried to call Beebe and explain to them that my husband lives in Canada and he would be down here for two weeks in June and I would like him to be with me when I get my PET-SCAN and discuss my end of life decision with my urologist. I finally got through and of course they said they couldn't change it. I was frustrated and I replied "I'll be glad to get out of this world because of situations like this." That must have had an effect because about an hour later they called back and gave me an option for an earlier appointment. Still not a date when Pat would be here but at least I wouldn't be sitting in the parking lot that is Route One on Fourth of July weekend. 

In the meantime I'm living my best life I can every day. When Pat is down we'll try a few new restaurants but we won't be eating out as much because of the dramatically increased prices in restaurants.  I don't know why those prices are up so much because they certainly don't pay their help $15  an hour like they pay in Royal Farms or other minimum wage service jobs. My last job as a hotel front desk clerk, for which I had over twenty years experience and even won a trip to Disney World as Best Guest Service Award (2000, when I worked at the Hampton Inn in Pennsylvania), I never made more than $12 an hour. Started at $9 and hour and gradually with .25 cent increases worked up to $12 an hour. Yes Virginia, that is a true story. I have specialized in low paying jobs my whole adult career. Even when working for the banks I never made more than $37,500 even though my contemporaries were making $50,000 to $80,000 a year. However I contribute that to the fact I was always an out gay person which is why I never had an officer title like Assistant Vice President. But Bill and I made our lives work even though he took early retirement at 55 years of age and I was the sole breadwinner in our family for the next seven years until he could start collecting his Social Security early. The only way we were able to manage this was my insistence on buying our first home early and get out of the rental trap, which we did. Back then (1980) the real estate industry didn't base prices on two income families which is what we were. Of course now they do. I don't know how young couples can buy homes now unless both of them work. Well, not my problem now in this lifetime. That's for them to work out.

Say, have you noticed? I'm on a ramble here? I haven't been posting too much (and I won't in the future) but every now and then I just feel like talking. That's why I blog. Therapy and maybe, just maybe to help others who read this blog not to make the same mistakes I made in life this lifetime. Yes, I absolutely believe we live many lives. Our purpose in life is to learn and to love. I have accomplished both of those goals and now I am ready to comfortably coast out.

This past week I've been studying the exact details how and when one does the medically assisted suicide thing. Interesting. Also interesting reading the stories of those who have done it. They have all felt the same way I do, they have witnessed prolonged painful and degrading deaths of their loved ones and were thankful they could choose to go out in relative comfort and at a place of their choosing and with their dignity intact. That's my goal folks. And once I get this PET-SCAN complete (I'll believe it when it happens) and have the discussion with my urologist about my plans (I need his permission, I already have my primary care doctor's permission), I can concentrate on living and appreciating each day I have left. Remember folks, all of us are going to die someday. No body gets out of this life alive. But some of us fortunately live in states that choose to treat their human beings as well as they treat their pets when they're dying. I am one of those lucky people.

There, that's my rant for the day.