Lemon Aide Consulting, LLC

When my friend and I were grieving (my mom’s cancer and her husband’s cancer) she bought me a gift certificate so I could pick out and buy my first rose bush. I knew I wanted yellow roses. According to my brother, Joe, yellow roses were like friends and always said, “You can never have too many yellow roses.”).
I eventually chose “Princess Buttercup” in homage to my mom: In the spring of 1987 my mom and I went to see the Princess Bride in the movie theatre when it first came out. My mom (a nontraditional college student at the time) and I had just finished finals and our brains were fried. After staring at the screen like zombies for the first 20 minutes, we both turned to each other at the same time and said with surprise and delight, “This is really funny!”
My “Princess Buttercup” rose bush is in its 3rd season and I’m surprised and delighted that not only have I not killed it, it seems to be thriving.
If you’re wondering what to give someone who’s grieving, consider a rose bush if they are inclined towards gardening. Caring for a rose bush seems scary but they’re beautiful and tough - not unlike the grieving process itself.

My 99 year old friend, Mary, and I did our 18th annual trip to the garden center to buy annuals for her pots. I’m amazed we’re still doing this and that Mary only needs a walker to get around. She’s the most knowledgeable gardener I know and a fountain of gardening tips. The owner of the garden center told me he has a regular 101 year old client who drives himself to the garden center, walks around the with just a cane picking out his annuals, insists on loading his purchases into his car, and presumably plants them himself when he gets home. If I live that long, I hope I’m as strong, healthy, and sharp as these two super agers.

I’ve been using my staple gun a lot lately to re-purpose and make useful things at little to no cost. I found some leftover material from my mother’s mid 1990s home office redecorating project. The material is a botanical print by Western Textiles called Primula Hirsuta. My mom used it to cover an antique chair. With my staple gun, some bunting, elastic ribbon and the leftover material, I covered two cork boards that were gathering dust. I’m a very visual person especially when it comes to design. So much hardcopy inspiration for my home and my clients’ homes will be slipped among the diagonal elastic ribbons. Bonus Find: a small pillow in pristine shape at a local estate sale with the same fabric for $15. I snapped it up and have added it to my home office.

And maybe take the Waterford crystal sets for 12 too 😬

If you could only do one which would you prefer: attending a great party to celebrate someone who’s still alive or going to their funeral later on?

"Dear Carolyn: I’m an almost-70-year-old woman with metastatic cancer that is progressing. Treatment might extend my life a bit, but my days are numbered.
Would it be inappropriate to host one last, big gala party and invite everyone I love to fly in, stay at a hotel and celebrate with me — i.e., the way people fly in for a wedding or funeral?

Having a party on a random day might seem odd, but I cannot throw this on my birthday because it’s Christmas Day and most of my friends are off visiting their grandkids.

I have friends and family all over the world and think many would be happy to come out for one last big party, if I arranged it at an “offseason” time when flights and hotels are cheaper.

I know they would likely fly in for a funeral to honor my life with my only child. I’d much rather enjoy this celebration of life with them than have them spend the same money after I’m gone.

Is this a narcissistic desire? If not, then how would I word such an invitation? It sounds a bit ghoulish to say, “Come have fun with me one last time before I kick the bucket.”

My daughter is all for this and would also prefer a big celebration of life while I’m still here to enjoy it with her, then a small, low-key funeral that distant friends can attend via Zoom."

— Not Dead Yet

Carolyn’s response: https://wapo.st/4ve185P
Illustration by Nick Galifianakis

And don’t forget to also scratch your pet’s belly 😊

As a professional downsizer my curiosity was immediately piqued when I learned Olney Theater was producing a play about adult children returning to their deceased father’s crumbling home to sort through the remnants inside.

I have seen how easily emotions and memories can be stirred up by objects and personal effects. Sometimes strained relationships, unmet needs, or buried resentments can also be stirred up when dealing with a deceased relative’s personal effects.

All these conflicts arise along with some biting and clever humor in Appropriate an American family drama by DC native and Pulitzer Prize winner Branden Jacobs-Jenkins.

The play is set in the living room of a former plantation home in Arkansas. The patriarch of the white Lafayette family has died and his children return to deal with the crumbling home and the remnants inside which stirs up personal conflicts and ancestral racial trauma.

There are many themes and levels of meaning in this play. You could read it or watch it acted out a dozen times and come away with new connections each time. Sticking to my professional lane, however, I was most struck by what the Broadway production director, Lila Neugebauer, said about this play which,, “...tells us something about time, about nature, about how miniscule our lives really are in the grand scheme of the forces of time and nature.”

If you're looking for unexpected motivation to get started on your own downsizing project, this play might just shake you out of your procrastination. You would likely never find the courage to start your own death cleaning if you go to Appropriate and leave at intermission (you won’t because it’s such a good production - in fact, it’s been extended to April 26th). If you stay to the end, I bet you will want to run home and start organizing.

If you need help, reach out! I’m offering a 20% discount until May 1, 2026 if you use the word: APPROPRIATE

Sad to learn today that Margareta Magnusson 🇸🇪 died earlier this week. Also grateful for her legacy of döstädning or Swedish Death Cleaning. Her book on the topic is one I return to regularly for ideas, inspiration and motivation. I've underlined and dog eared much of her book but one line is imprinted on my brain: "I have death cleaned so many times for others, I'll be damned if someone else has to death clean after me." Rest in peace and lightness, Ms. Magnusson. I'm picking up her next book for more wisdom this time on "Aging Exuberantly."

One of my mom’s favorite silly poems and a perennial reminder that harsh winters and other challenges can be survived and joy can catch us by surprise if we let it.