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...
December 31st, 2021: 10:15pm I convinced my parents I’d be okay to spend New Years alone. I would be okay. After all, I like being alone. It’s not that I didn’t wish I was invited to be with my friends, I just got used to not being there. And I was happy to hear the fireworks outside from my bedroom window. I’m old enough now. I don’t need to be bothered by people who don’t love me. There isn’t a version of me before this who could have said that and meant it. This year, there isn’t even a background noise of my old hurt, and I sleep soundly. January 1st, 2022: 8:00am I take my very first antidepressant. I feel nothing (obviously). I decide to take the month off of drinking to see if it works. It does. Two weeks after my first dose I wake up before my alarm and smile. I still have so much time before I have to go to work. I begin to sleep full nights. My dad tells me he finally sees the Haleigh he always knew I could be. I see her, too. April 29th, 2022: 3:00pm A doctor in Vancouver co...