By Dennis Sinar
Wednesday when I visited, Josey told me she liked tangerines better than the little oranges I’d brought—tangerines have no seeds. That was just typical. Over the last several visits she’d become a new person, one who skipped over positives and only saw the negative side.
Today, when she talked about the oranges, she had a way of saying it that was not so much an overt criticism, but more of a whine. I hate whining. Mother discouraged using the word “hate” because it has such a negative connotation, but in this case, I thought it anyway.