Have you ever watched someone pass away? I don’t mean “heard about it later.” Not “gotten the call.” Not “arrived after the fact to sit with the body already still.” I mean actually watched.
Have you been present, sitting there as a body fails in real time? Have you watched the chest rise and fall, then rise less, then not rise at all?
Because I have. And I’ve reached a place in the understanding of my own grief where I genuinely don’t care how uncomfortable it makes people to hear about it. Why? Because it’s coming for all of us… and if you don’t really look at that, you are not actually living.
Tag Archives: death and dying
I Hate July.
There is a version of my father that exists on paper. It lists the facts of him the way facts do, accurately and without warmth. This is not that version. This is the one where he drove a demon out of his daughter’s house without flinching, opened his blue eyes one last time for her and nobody else, and taught her without ever once saying so that love is not a feeling you manage. It is a decision you make and keep making. I learned that in five days in July. I have never loved any other way since.