Kip Hollister, 56, a successful business woman from Dover Mass, experienced the unthinkable recently. Her 23-year-old son, Chase, one of her four children, died unexpectedly. In the nine months since the tragedy,
For most parents, the topic of mortality is unsettling. But for the parent of a special needs child, it can be overwhelming. What becomes of my son after I am gone? How will my daughter find her way? What will be the social, emotional and financial impacts? What can I do to make it OK?
How would you like to be remembered? Will your co-workers only remember the accolades and promotions you received at work? Will your family only remember the amount of inheritance you left to your beneficiaries? Or, will loved ones recall the characteristics that made you a caring friend, a loving spouse, and a patient and present parent?
Fainting has long been associated with 18th century women who wore their corsets too tight. “Why goodness, I feel faint,” was a common line in old movies or romance novel. So, as a woman who regularly ran three to five miles and lifted weights at the gym, as a woman who thought she was pretty tough, I was surprised when I started fainting.
You know you’re going to die…eventually. But you don’t think about death five times a day — unless you’ve downloaded WeCroak, a popular iOS and Android app that sends alerts to remind you death is looming.
WeCroak was inspired by a Bhutanese folk saying, but what motivated you to create this app and share this philosophy with the world? Were people shocked at this idea, and is there a growth of understanding?
My first Broadway show, at age 6, was Annie Get Your Gun, and over the years my mother made sure her three daughters saw at least one production a year. At our home in Pittsburgh, show tunes were the soundtrack of our lives.
Some of us were born with a travel bug – a strong desire to experience foreign lands and exotic cultures. But then… life gets in the way. Vacations turn into stay-cations, and finances are poured into daily living rather than living large. Luckily, the renaissance of the sharing economy has delivered a cost-effective way to start knocking adventurous destinations off your bucket list.
While in the waiting area for a mammogram a few weeks ago, I was surrounded by women of all ages who were there for the same reason: to have their breasts smashed and squished into unimaginable ways for the purpose of detecting abnormalities. Dressed in front-opening, ill-fitting blue gowns, each of us poured the most intimate details of our personal histories onto our own individual computer pads.