On the day I found out my dad had a year to live, I was standing at work, typing away stupidly about something I can’t remember now. And in an instant, I was catapulted into a terrible grief I knew nothing about. Like a dark room I’d never entered, feeling my way around. Gemma called my boss, my colleagues, and my best friends. Ordering one to give me time off, to get coffee, and to buy moving boxes. In the apartment, I couldn’t even remember my own name. Gemma found my passport, called my sister and arranged a pick up, and booked my flight for the next morning. Early but not too early, because she said I needed sleep. How do I even begin to pack right now? Gemma told everyone what to do. She put on my favourite songs, Taylor Swift, whom she didn’t particularly care for, and made the executive decision to toss my near-empty shampoo bottles. We walked through a handful of outfits I’d need - certainly comfy ones - as Gemma proposed. And when I’d come back to collect my t...
People who know me may say otherwise, but lately (as in the last year or so) I’ve been really good at coping. My new thing is, it is what it is. Honestly, terrible things happen (when you end up in the hospital with a blood clot in your lung, only to lose two jobs in the span of 1 month and then get a weeks notice to move your entire life back to a town you don’t like and on the way your car engine blows up), trust me, I know. But lately, I’ve just been letting it roll off my back. It’s not mine to carry. Can you do something about it? If the answer is yes, then you’re going to be okay. If the answer is no, then you’re going to be okay. This is what I mean, things happen. Anyways. With all this quarantine, I’ve had a lot, I mean we’ve all had a lot of time to think and reflect on things. I realized I miss the hell out of my friends. I miss getting dressed for a normal day. I miss sleeping on a regular schedule. But I realized one thing and I haven’t really felt ri...