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.
A million questions run through my head each day; questions that even the almighty Google search can't answer: What do I do with my dead aunt's lingerie? What words can I say to soothe my mother? What urn would my aunt have liked most - the one with the butterflies or the one with the… Continue reading Dear Google…help me!
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.
The four of us cling onto each other, forming the grief squad. Our days fall into a familiar routine: cleaning, sorting, crying, convincing each other to eat, forced evening walks and sporadic (somewhat guilty) laughter, usually when we discover a hidden memory we can share with the rest that we had long forgotten about. We… Continue reading The grief squad.
If I stretch my arms out far enough I can graze the edges of my grief with my fingertips, pushing it away to make room for my mother's grief, which she is unable to hold back as it crashes against her relentlessly. Nothing will ever be the same again. I stumble through the hospital corridors… Continue reading Jubilee garden.
All the bad days of my life combined don't come close to this living hell. I stare begrudgingly at the carefree couple sitting across from me on the train, clearly on their way to somewhere filled with laughter and friends and ice-cream that trickles down their hands as the sun shines down on them on… Continue reading The train of doom.
I wince thinking back to last week, sitting in my solarium, clinking wine glasses with Mr. J, thinking to myself that life has never been this happy or good or fucking easy. Infinite possibilities stretched out before me; a safety net of love and support lay beneath me. I see my aunt's message come through… Continue reading Life interrupted.
I've had a perma smile plastered on my face for the majority of the last 24 hours. But as colleagues' emails began to trickle in as the news leaked that I was quitting to pursue a "personal endeavour," my feelings of unadulterated joy were punctured by brief moments of panic: "You're quitting your job? Wow.… Continue reading Cause my momma said so.
The week of hell raged on...my inbox groaned and froze frequently due to the constant stream of emails, my caffeine intake tripled and my nails were now non-existent (and my only source of sustenance between meetings). But through it all, a small smile remained on my face, assured and confident that I was ready to… Continue reading The golden opportunity.
Day 6 of my sinus infection...please send chicken soup and trashy magazines to: Mucus Blob Girl Shoebox Condo The Tundra aka. Canada When I went to see my doctor to get antibiotics, I mentioned that I had dropped by my work to "show face" aka. stop the squawking cubicle hens from spreading rumours about me… Continue reading The magic of saying things out loud.