That sounds like you're in for more difficult times, Consuela, but I suspect that your dad admitting he can't do it may be a good thing, on balance. I hope so, anyway. Good luck.

Sleeping - I sleep on my left side with two pillows (currently a regular foam pillow on top of a memory foam pillow, which probably negates any benefits of the memory foam, but I am unclear on what those benefits may be) always under a sheet tucked in at the feet (if it's hot enough that I want the ceiling fan blowing directly on my bare skin, I'll still have a corner of the sheet tucked over some part of me. It's a vulnerability thing more than temperature, I think), and over the sheet up to a collection including a blanket, two quilts, and down comforter, depending on temperature. I toss and turn quite a bit, unless I'm extremely tired, but when I am trying to go to sleep, it's left side. I used to sleep on my back with my knees bent and no pillow, and I still sometimes try that, but I trained myself to sleep on the left side after reading something about that being good for some particular internal organ and now that's my habit.

Going to bed rituals - I like to read for a bit, but lately I have been too tired for that. I get my phone and other devices charging, and set up the phone to use the Sleep Cycle App both to document how well/much I sleep and to work as my alarm. If my bedroom windows are open, I close them to reduce the noise of passing trains. All lights everywhere in the house must be off. Walter crawls under the bed, Jadzia comes to walk around on me, maybe curls up on my hip for a while, sometimes Pixie sleeps on my phone. I do a little follow-my-breath meditation to quiet my mind until I'm out.

Ugh, that's hard, Consuela, but at the same time I'm giving your dad props for acknowledging that he's overwhelmed. Can they move her over to the full care side?

My aunt and uncle (both 83 now) are considering not rebuilding the Shore house. Not half as sad or frustrating as Consuela's situation, but still sad-making. When the ocean has breached in Mantoloking twice more now -- less than a mile from what is left of the house -- it begins to look like rebuilding is going to be a bad deal. It feels a little bit like we've lost another member of the family.

Sleep/bedtime rituals: Curtains closed, doors locked, outside lights on, inside lights off except for the little one in the bathroom, cats fed, alarm system on. Bottle of water and cell phone by the bed, alarm set if I'm using one. Teeth brushed, retainers in, lotion on, hair conditioner in. Ceiling fan on even in winter. If it's summer, I'll have a floor fan on as well as the ceiling fan and air conditioning. I might open a window in spring and fall. I sleep in a t-shirt and socks, although the socks come off as soon as I get too warm, which I do because I always sleep under a quilt, even in summer. I can't sleep under just a light top sheet or nothing at all; I feel insecure without the weight of a blanket or quilt. My pillow is a sad flat thing because I sleep on my side and can't stand to have my neck cricked. Unless I get some asthmatic bronchial spasms or acid reflux, then I'm on my back with a thicker pillow to lift my torso up a little. I don't like having anything else in the bed besides the spare pillow. Books and phones go on the side tables. Long ago I slept with a stuffed animal, but now I have one or two or three cats on me, so the plushie friend is no longer needed.

The cats provide security. When I wake up scared, or can't fall asleep, because I can feel a presence in the room, I look at the peacefully sleeping cat and I know there are no ghosts there, it's just my misfiring neurons. Then I can calm down and sleep.

My aunt and uncle (both 83 now) are considering not rebuilding the Shore house. Not half as sad or frustrating as Consuela's situation, but still sad-making. When the ocean has breached in Mantoloking twice more now -- less than a mile from what is left of the house -- it begins to look like rebuilding is going to be a bad deal. It feels a little bit like we've lost another member of the family.

Yeah, Mantoloking is rough. Even if they weren't 83 it would be worth considering.

Ooh, I love a good "How do you…?" question.

Yes to the top sheet, tucked in at the bottom of the bed. I wear pajamas (t-shirt, loose boxers or pajama pants, no undies) and socks (which usually get kicked off in the night once I'm warm enough). M frequently complains that his feet are cold when we're going to bed, but refuses to wear socks to sleep. This I do not understand. I do like the room to be on the cool side, so that I feel all warm and snuggly under the covers, but I can sleep in warmer rooms too. No particular preference on position; I tend to move around a fair bit in the night, so it's just whatever feels right at that moment.

Do you have a brain quieting approach? They say it helps to shift your brain from words to images. Guided imagery (counting sheep?)

I don't do this every night, but sometimes if I'm having trouble quieting my brain, I'll try to get into a more relaxed state by letting images drift through my mind. So I'll just be lying there letting an image form in my mind, and eventually I'll realize, "it's a park bench," or "it's a hammer," or "it's my mom," and then it dissolves and I let the next one come. Usually a few minutes of that helps me zone out pretty well, and it can be fun to see what comes up.

I also liked hearing my parents talking or a party in the house after I'd gone to bed.

Oh yeah, I've always liked that sound as well. It's so comforting.

And if I leave my bed unmade or undressed in the morning, I have to straighten and make it before I get in it at night.

I do this too! Otherwise the covers are all askew, and one or the other of us will wind up clutching at the edge of the duvet while it hangs halfway off the other side of the bed.

I just finished reading an excellent book -- The Age of Miracles.

I've been thinking about reading this one, Kat. Did you like it? I thought about picking it up when I finished Flight Behavior, the new Barbara Kingsolver book, but that book made me so upset and paranoid about climate change that I decided I needed to read something that probably wouldn't make me feel like I was going to die.

Oh, sleepwear, I have a lot (just bought new PJs yesterday at Target, I don't need them, but purple Maleficent could not be denied), everything from lightweight cotton nighties to full-footie fleece pajamas. I just kind of cycle through it as weather, mood, and whimsy dictate. I like not getting dressed immediately when I wake up and saunter around doing stuff in my jammies, maybe with a robe, as long as I can.

I've never gotten in the habit of keeping water in the bedroom. I don't wake up thirsty in the night, though, so I guess I don't need to. I am thirsty when I wake up in the morning, but that's part of what gets me out of bed, I kinda need that...

Eta: I am generally no on sleeping in socks. I don't really like wearing socks when I'm awake. If I'm cold, I'm more likely to wear a hat to bed to stay warm.

I always have water at my bedside. Between my night time and morning meds, it is just easier.

When did your parents stop making a point of saying Good Night to you when you went to bed? The first time I went off to bed and my mother didn't come up to say good night I was around ten or so, and I laid there for a long time waiting. I finally went downstairs to say good night to her, and she looked surprised but said good night. I don't remember if she said good night after that, but apparently that was a sufficiently traumatic time that it marked me.

My parents never came to my room to say good night, not since Mom was reading the Little House books to me and my sister, but even then I wasn't in bed. We were a say good night in the living room and then go to bed family. And that's what we still do if we are sleeping in the same place.