#grief process

seven years now since we last spoke, can you believe it? its the dead of night back home. do you remember when you'd wake me up at 5 am to mow the lawn before it got too hot? i made you sit at the table while i finished a cup of coffee, that was my rule. its probably why i still drink coffee. just give me another minute before you go, ok?

i think about that phone call. grief is funny, most times youre going along fine and then suddenly you underwater gasping for air. i think of you telling me you were proud of me. you never did that. i think maybe you knew.

i think about your voice. i cant remember it unless i think about that goofy message on your answering machine, laughing and bright. 'Leave me a Message.' sometimes, i still do, even though you never show online. maybe you still get them somehow.

anyway, i miss you. (dont be shooting at me then, you'd always say, or you gotta improve you aim!) do you know how much of you is still here? do you know my stories are all laced with grief? do you know my smile is a perfect copy of yours? thanks for that. i love you.

A roommate of mine accidentally broke a mug I've bought at the Natural History Museum of London :(

My personal steps of grief in this case

Step 1: Sadness

Step 2: Suddenly an idea

Step 3: Realize that I have an 'excuse' to plan my next trip to London

Olaf’s grief process / Bad education quote

Stage one - Denial

“Who killed Count Olaf”

🤷‍♀️

Stage 2 - Identity theft

“I’m Jacques, Jacques Snicket”

herein, a list of things in my medicine cabinet that are very much Not Mine (but that I have steadfastly ignored for the past 14 months and now have to deal with because the other day I nearly knocked my toothbrush into the toilet and the whole thing has to be cleaned out and rearranged):

argan oil, for her curly Jewish hair

two bars of Dr. Bronner’s tea tree oil soap, for her daily epsom salt baths

various tinctures and other such hippie stuff

fancy silk dental floss, because the woman was a big fan of flossing after every meal and regular dental floss is for plebes, Joey

tampons (I hate them and never use them)

a couple of random prescriptions from five years ago, wtf

her bright pink toothbrush travel case (”It was as close to purple as I could find, Joey”)

a nice soft reusable cloth makeup wipe I got her when she was in the hospital

some kind of little scrubby brush thing, the use of which is probably related to nail care and/or other mystical femme rituals

a forgotten tube of mascara (she did wear mascara nearly every day until just before she died)

two pairs of nail scissors

Me: **Fine**

Me: **Fine**