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'm sure you all knew this was coming. I was raised in a family where giving up is not an option. Those weren’t words at our house. It made me stubborn, but it also made me successful. It’s why I pushed through years of ringette, years of mean high school kids, years of relationships. It’s why I didn’t drop out of school when I was in second year, it’s why I FaceTime with my teachers to bring my grades up. I push because I’m not a giver upper. Maybe to a fault? Sometimes I don’t know when to give up. Arguing a point, never being able to accept defeat, never being able to hear “no” as an option. In fact, I’m the best at not giving up. I took PE all through high school and only one time in my life did I ever hit the softball (a foul ball at that) and that was all I needed to call it a win. But where is the line?? Giving up and surrender. What’s the difference? I still don’t think I know. But I think the first thing I ever gave up on was love. ...