Two months ago, I lost my cherished companion of sixteen years. This is about that, but not only that.
I got back from a conference in New York late one Wednesday night. I left my bag mostly packed, knowing I'd be back on a train that Friday afternoon to visit friends in New Jersey. On Thursday night I went to see a murder mystery movie; afterward, at my place, my partner made us drinks… Continue reading A small grief on the subject of the body
I take a bus to the city where my mother was born to sit with my aunt on her deathbed. Before we go to her, my older cousins drive me to the family house to drop off my single carry-on and maybe eat. “I’m just going to get a glass of water,” I say. “Rinse… Continue reading A small grief on the subject of home
My aunt passed away this fall--on Thanksgiving Day, actually. It was both sudden and not: she had been sick and struggling for some time and had elected to transition into hospice care, but no one expected to lose her that day, that week. Unlike the rest of us, my aunt was slight in stature, short… Continue reading A small grief on the subject of belonging
I went with friends to see the new Avengers movie, an action film that spends much of its screentime showing how its superheroes deal with grief and survivor guilt in the wake of a cataclysmic event they could not prevent. Afterward, we ate fried chicken and enumerated all the plot holes we could think of.… Continue reading Three scenes about grief