My dad died on Valentine’s Day from a cancer in his brain that he fought for a year and a half. I’ll talk about that more one day, but what I want to say now comes from the buildup and the fallout. What I want to say is not about the suffering and turmoil that I watched my dad and my family experience for that year and a half, or the milestones we hit every day that I never mentioned, like the last day he had ice cream or went outside. I want to talk about him and I will. But today, I want to talk about the aftermath. People don’t know what to say about death and dying. They tell you they’re sorry and they could never do what you’re doing, they tell you how strong you are and graceful you’re being, admire how you’re “back to work” or “still able to have fun”. Grievers are told time and time again, nobody knows what the right thing to say is. And we have grace. Giggle it off and nod our heads, tell them thank you and it’s okay. Because it is okay. They aren’t doing anything wrong t...
I always knew I needed to get out of my hometown. It’s not that I didn’t love it, or the people, but I was outgrowing it. And I could feel the box getting tighter as I got bigger. So when I was seventeen, I left. I moved to a city eight times it’s size, lived with 3 strangers (my now best friends) and changed my entire life. It was amazing. But now it’s worn off. And suddenly...I feel claustrophobic in the space. Is it possible I outgrew this place too? I mean, I could go bigger: Vancouver, Toronto, New York maybe? But would I outgrow that too? As I started to feel the new wearing off, I immediately looked for a new place to go. Now I’m here, in this new place, and it still doesn’t feel right. I feel in the way of other people’s lives, and more importantly, not on the path of my own. I do this. I bounce around, from place to place, person to person, hobby to hobby, and after a period of time, I get this overwhelming urge to change things. And so I leave peo...