The bureaucracy of dying.

The couch is covered with a decade's worth of papers, as we sift through trying to make meaning of it all. Birth certificate. Life insurance. Bank statements. Utility bills. Vacation cancellation policies. Paystubs. Marriage license. Pensions. Cellphone contracts. Drivers licenses.  Rent invoices. Passports. Property taxes. Receipts. Immigration papers. Death certificate. It all feels so horribly … Continue reading The bureaucracy of dying.

Vim tears.

Mr. J's voice provides me with momentary relief each night during our scheduled call - a promise of  a sense of normalcy after I wake up from this nightmare. My heart pangs for our home and our happy and simple life; free of any legitimate concerns. I feel guilty clutching onto this solace, with none … Continue reading Vim tears.