Author: Karen Taylor

This month, I had the pleasure of interviewing one of the centurions in our town. Ms. Ruth Wosic has been a full-time resident of Pahrump since 2009, though she visited often since 1997. For many of these years, she found great joy in living life as a snowbird, much like many in our community. Her favorite summer destination was her daughter’s home in Alaska, where the dramatic contrast between the desert heat and the gentle 50–60-degree temperatures felt like a gift. Born in Czechoslovakia, Ms. Wosic has lived in many countries, her favorite being Austria. Her mother was Austrian and…

When Amy Veloz, our editor, first interviewed me back in February, one of our conversations touched on the fact that I knew I would be restructuring August Services LLC this year—though much was still unclear at that time. As promised, I’m excited to share the first steps. While there is some sadness, this moment feels bittersweet—with far more sweet than not. Effective December 31, 2025, Prestigious Personal Care of August Services LLC will be closing, as High Desert Home Care completes the acquisition of all of our clients and caregivers. I’d like to take a moment to introduce Greg Treece…

Each day, my mother and I text each other, “Good morning and Good night.” Recently, my “Good morning text ended with, I am experiencing very odd emotions today.” I was present at the duck pond, my favorite place to enter the busyness of the day-quietly meditating and preparing as I acknowledge this in text. A vast series of thoughts led me to ask Google, “Can dehydration affect our emotional well-being?” OF COURSE, it can! Once again, I find this week’s column topic through my own needs or experiences on this Journey of Caring for others. I’m not surprised, as I…

This year, the table stretches wide,New friends joining add extra seats, yetYour place is set softly at the side. Plates clatter, voices lift and laugh—But your absence echoes through the hall. The chair sits quietly, still, awareOf every story, only you can share. The gravy flows, the pies abound,Yet in the space, your memory’s found.The bread is passed, the gravy poured,We each feel the shadow of your hand. We speak your name in gentle sighs,And taste your absence in our eyes. The warmth of family, candles’ glow,Cannot fill what only you bestow. A silent toast, a whispered prayer,Love surrounds the…

Yesterday I didn’t hesitate to answer the phone identified as out of state, but rather than being greeted by a professional tone of inquiry of our services, I was greeted by a robotic voice stating that their call was of great urgency – my Medicare advantage plan was in great danger of cancelling without pressing 1 to talk to a live representative. Thankfully, as a professional working with seniors I quickly recognized the scam (I’m not quite old enough for Medicare so it’d didn’t take that much effort) and decided to take advantage of my experience to reach out to…

And then there are timeswhen my grief is silently hiding,stealing my voice,slipping into the pausesbetween breath and word. It curls into shadows,not loud, not raging,but heavy—a quiet thief of sound,a silencer of songs. My lips partbut the weight presses down,the unspoken stays unspoken,and all I can dois let my eyescarry what my mouth cannot. Yet even here,in the hush of sorrow’s grip,my silence still speaks—of love too deep to vanish,of memories too sacred to name,of absence that lingerslike a ghost in the throat.

Grief often comes in waves. There are stages, yes—but they don’t arrive in neat order or follow a checklist we can mark as “done.” Instead, grief moves unpredictably, rising and falling like the tide. Waves really are the best description. Just when one begins to recede, like a low tide drawing back, another rolls in—sometimes gentle, sometimes like a tsunami. And it’s not only the immediate loss we feel. Grief has a way of stirring up other unsettled griefs buried in the sea of our hearts. Old hurts, unfinished goodbyes, or strained relationships can resurface and crash in alongside the…

We’re just a few days past six weeks into this new, uninvited season of grief, and last week, I got an email from my mom. She knew I’d had one of those days where nothing seemed to go right. When she said, “It’s really important that you read the email I sent before you go to sleep tonight,” I assumed it was a virtual hug, maybe a few words to soothe the ache. But what I found was my own voice staring back at me. > “I’m throwing your own words back at you!” she wrote, quoting from one of…

Grief has a way of reshaping us—sometimes subtly, other times in sudden, unrelenting waves. This past month, I experienced one of those waves. It was only the second time I’ve endured the loss of someone so deeply loved that more than one memorial service was needed. But this was the first time I played an active role in both—planning, organizing, and, most importantly, remembering. Coordination and connection are two of my core strengths, so it felt natural to step into that role. Still, nothing about it was routine. Each service was entirely different, and my role in each reflected the…

From the series: “Grief in Real Time: A Caregiver’s Journey Through Sudden Loss” Some moments burn into your memory forever. In the quiet early hours, as the shock of my father-in-law’s sudden passing began to settle into my chest, another weight emerged: I had to wake up my husband and pull him into the same storm of grief. While still on the phone with the nurse, I learned they had called our daughter first—her number had been listed as an emergency contact. She had already been awakened with the news, and she dearly loved her Grandpa. I still needed to…