Ever since my father passed away in April, I’ve been talking to my mother a lot more. We haven’t had the best relationship, my mother and I. It’s long and complicated. Mostly, she’s wanted to be close to me, although she doesn’t actually like me as a person (and I don’t much like her). » Read more
My father passed away in mid April, and I’ve been doing my best to deal with my grief since then. These are extraordinarily strange times, what with the global pandemic, confirmed recession and probably economic depression, and large-scale demonstrations protesting police brutality and racial inequality.
Even without 2020 being ridiculous on the grand scale, » Read more
If I want to think of a time when my inner thoughts weren’t self-critical, I have to think back very far. Practically to a point where life was largely non-verbal, and I don’t remember too much aside from images. The warmth of sunlight on my face. The view of my own tiny stockinged feet shoved into full-body pajamas. » Read more
They told me recovery would be hard. Harder than anything I’d ever been through. Than anything I could imagine.
But that it’d be doable, provided I took it one tiny piece at a time. That was the biggest key — not trying to contend with everything before me at the same time.
It was so easy to get overwhelmed otherwise. » Read more
My father passed away six weeks ago.
The first time I typed out that sentence, I accidentally wrote, “My father passed away six years ago.” And if that isn’t telling, I don’t know what it is.
Anyway, while dealing with my own grief and of course everything else all other Americans are up against this unsettled spring (pandemic, » Read more
I woke up cheerful this morning.
Normally, this wouldn’t be big news. In general, I have a very positive disposition.
I do get grumpy. I do get sad. Things can and do annoy me.
Part of being a resilient person involves acknowledging reality. And anyone who has any sort of meaningful, » Read more
There’s a joke going around the Internet. It goes a little something like this: Don’t forget to check on your strong friend so that they can lie to you about how they’re doing.
I laugh, because there’s a lot of truth there. I don’t know if other people would consider me their “strong” » Read more
It’s been a month since my father died. That sentence, as I type it, feels like a lie. And not simply because a substantial part of me wishes it weren’t true, that my father were still alive, but also because of the “month” part.
Because even though I can look at the calendar, » Read more
I haven’t written about this much, but I’ll say it now: I’m a klutz.
When I was a little kid, I was always falling down and skinning my knees. Now, I did eventually become a runner, first a sprinter in elementary school and later a cross country runner in middle school (before puberty came along and made it impossible to compete like I had before, » Read more
A few weeks ago, someone I love very much passed away. I’m noticing that I get less sick every time I type that. Or every time I speak it aloud.
On one hand, this upsets me. Because as frightening as the pain of the early days was, this new shift troubles me. Because I don’t want to forget him. » Read more