Barbara Falconer Newhall

Dying. It’s What We Do These Days

I see that it’s not going to let up, this dying thing. I’m 80 years old now. I’m getting older and so are all my friends. Read more.

Grievance and outrage have soured American discourse, public and private, for the past five years. And, yes, I find that outrageous. Read more.

I called tech support and got ageism. ‘Why don’t you get someone younger to help you?’ said the otherwise very nice techie. Read more.

With no husband to complain about my bad habits and quirky tastes, I’m free to think and do lots of things I’d set aside for many years. Read more.

Now that Jon is gone, I am keeping an eye out for reasons to like going it alone. I’m wondering, are there any upsides to widowhood? Read more.

No, Jon did not suffer. He did not die in anguish. It was over quickly, she said. Before he knew what was happening. Read more.

How to mark the anniversary of Jon’s death? A visit to the cemetery seemed in order. Then along came some advice from my dead husband. Read more.