The mid-Eighties. No cell phones, no email, no caller ID, no GPS. It was easier then to pass without notice, to be out of touch, to get lost. The Berlin Wall still stood, as did the World Trade Center, and Michael Reid embarks on what even he concedes to be a spate of obsessive travel: Scandinavia, the Persian Gulf, South Asia, back home to the Ozarks, then off again to Greece, Eastern Europe and Egypt. Along the way, he writes letters about what he’s seeing and what he’s thinking to three friends: Anna Browning, a mathematician in Tallahassee, who thinks of Michael less fondly than he thinks of her; Richard Randolph, Michael’s baseball-watching pal, who leads a comfortable—perhaps too comfortable—life as a law professor in Albuquerque; and Marie Cochran, a middle-school social studies teacher in rural New Mexico, who is Michael’s on-again-off-again lover. These three all know Michael, but they don’t know each other. And, against the background of Michael’s travels and his letters, their lives become curiously, even mysteriously, intertwined, changed in ways that Michael himself can’t imagine.

A fresh, funny new voice, Meg Federico showcases her keen eye for the absurd in this poignant, hilarious, and timely account of one daughter’s tumultuous journey caring for her aging parents. When Meg Federico’s eighty-year-old mother and newly minted step-father were forced to accept full-time home care, she imagined them settling into a Norman-Rockwellian life of docile dependency. With a family of her own and a full time career in Nova Scotia – a thousand miles away from her parents – Federico hoped they would be able to take care of themselves for the most part, and call on their children when they really needed them – but of course that’s not quite what happens. As she watches with horror from the sidelines, Federico’s parents turn into terrible teens. Fighting off onslaughts of dementia and Alzheimer’s disease, Addie and Walter, forbidden by doctors to drink, conspire to order cases of scotch by phone; Addie’s attendant accuses the evening staff of midnight voodoo; Walter’s inhibitions decline as dementia increases and mail-order sex aides arrive at the front door. The list of absurdities goes on and on as Federico tries to take some control over her parents’ lives – and her own. This is a story for the huge generation – nearly 76 million people – now dealing with the care of their parents. You’ll laugh and cry as you read this powerful and important debut.

The adventure begins when Meg’s mother, Addie, vacationing in Florida, takes a spill. At the hospital, Addie bolts upright on her gurney and yells “I demand an autopsy!” before passing out cold. “One minute, she is unconscious, the next, she’s nuts,” observes Meg Federico in this hilarious and poignant memoir of taking care of eighty-year-old Addie and her relatively new (and equally old) husband, Walter, in their not-so-golden years. Addie’s accident is a portent of things to come over the next two years as Meg oversees her mother’s home care in the Departure Lounge, the nickname Meg gives Addie and Walter’s house in suburban New Jersey. It is a place of odd behaviors and clashing caregivers, where chaos and confusion reign supreme. Meg had expected that Addie and Walter would settle into a Rockwellian dotage of docile dependency. Instead the pair regress into terrible teens. Meg watches from the sidelines in disbelief as her mother and stepfather, forbidden by doctors to drink, conspire to order cases of scotch by phone; as Addie’s attendant accuses the evening staff of midnight voodoo; as the increasingly demented Walter’s sex drive becomes unbridled and mail-order sex aids are delivered to the front door. Meg jumps in to cope with the pandemonium–even as she struggles to manage her own family back in Nova Scotia. With a fresh voice and a keen eye for the absurd, Meg Federico writes a story that will resonate with the generation now caring for their parents. Welcome to the Departure Lounge is a moving and madcap chronicle of a family–their moments of joy, the memories they’d rather forget, and the just plain loopiness of their situation. “How’s life at the Departure Lounge?” Meg’s brother asks. Meg doesn’t know where to start. “Let’s just say the drinks are outrageous, and they never run out of nuts.”

Mark Chamberlain is a man who has everything except Caroline Mayand. Nobody knows what happened to Caroline, but she's been gone for twenty-five years. One night Mark finds a shrine: scrapbooks, and photos of Caroline.

This comprehensive guide to the planning and design of airport terminals and their facilities covers all types of airport terminal found around the world and highlights the environmental and technical issues that the designer has to address. Contemporary examples are critically reviewed through a series of case studies. This new edition covers the most recent examples of high quality, technically advanced designs from the Far East, Europe and North America. This book will be a source of inspiration and guiding principles for those who design, commission or manage airport buildings.

A volume of poetry about motherhood, travel, being.

Compelling and heartrending, this personal memoir chronicles the author's decision not to put her mother, who has Alzheimer's and Parkinson's disease, in "one of those homes" and relays the far-reaching consequences this choice has on her entire family. Detailing the challenges of reversing roles and learning to mother one's own mother, this refreshing and entertaining autobiography will help those struggling with their own decisions on elder care in the home. It touches on the importance of relationships—such as how they impact our souls and beliefs about ourselves and the quality of life—and explores the larger questions of faith, hope, and ultimately death.