All tagged Grief
This past Monday marked seven years without Adelaide. Seven is the age Jackson was when his sister died, and how old Anessa is currently. Adelaide was born on the SEVENteenth and this year her birthday falls on Saturday, the seventh day of the week. Across many religious traditions, seven is an important number and can symbolize growth, introspection, and completion. While in no way do I feel like my healing journey is complete, I do feel it perhaps moving into a new phase.
I was speaking with another parent at camp drop-off yesterday morning about what other camps our kids were attending this summer. For the uninitiated, kids summer logistics can be almost as exhausting as navigating the school year.
Today is Adelaide’s 10th birthday. In another world she is healthy and in fourth grade. This weekend we will have a small birthday party for her as we always do, sing her happy birthday, and release ladybugs. But I wanted to do more. So, in the face of scientific funding cuts at the NIH, I’ve decided to do an online fundraiser for the Undiagnosed Diseases Network Foundation (UDNF) in Adelaide’s name.
Even though *I* am not returning to school, there is still something about this time of year that feels more new year-ish than New Year’s. And this back-to-school season, I’m feeling it more than most: in just two months The Luckiest will be in your hands and next week I will undergo what I hope is my final breast reconstruction surgery. I am saying ta ta to my uncomfortable and temporary tatas (ie expanders) and hello to my more permanent ones (implants).
This week Anessa prayed to Santa Claus and I mulled over the arrival of AI griefbots - how was your week?
As of yesterday, I am officially two weeks post-op. The god-awful drains sucking the gross body juice out of the remnants of my chest have finally been removed. Which means I’m no longer wearing specialized bras with hooks, or shirts with internal pockets to hold the collection bags which my mom then has to empty 2-3 times a day. Oh, and I no longer feel like a compromised cancer patient.
Every five years or so my life has undergone a major life refocusing and it would appear that I am in the midst of one again. And it awkward and uncomfortable and I’m not quite sure what I am supposed to do next.
If you all are anything like me, you could use a little pick me up right about now. My gift to you this week is a sweet story that comes with the reminder that for some godforsaken reason we have to have darkness before light.
Just when you thought the news couldn’t possibly get any worse, each day this week outdid the one before. I’ve felt deep sorrow, anger, fear, exhaustion, helplessness, a numbing, and an intense lack of motivation. Anything beyond curling up under a blanket with a screen or a book felt like strenuous effort. What was wrong with me? I couldn’t keep going on like this! And then it finally dawned on me that I was going through active grief.
Well folks, 2025 has made her presence known. Personally, I reached a level of doom scrolling this week not seen since the spring of 2020. The world feels heavy and overwhelming and it is difficult to determine where to prioritize concern and focus action. And then my friend Tamika, reminded me about the importance of joy and I think you might need this reminder as well.
Last night, while people mourned their loved ones, homes, business, and jobs in LA, Miguel and I went to the theater. It is a weird feeling this hyperconnectivity. We have access to the intimate details of the grief and loss experienced be those in Palestine, Ukraine, or LA. Yet unless it is in our community, where we can see it, smell it, and directly feel its impact - it all remains distant. Life goes on…
We only thought we would be in Chicago for a year so we rented out our New Jersey house while we were away. When it came time to move back I couldn’t bring myself to return to that house. My emotions surrounding the house have conflicted me for so long but as we are getting ready to say goodbye to the house, it is all becoming clear.
