It touches me to see how your town came together at the memorial service. This is beautifully rendered, Kimberly, all the more so knowing that it must have been one of the hardest chapters to write. 🕊️
Thank you. I certainly felt the “village” on that day.
Re the difficulty of writing it—to be honest, sometimes the most emotionally heavy chapters have been the easiest, like drinking a cool glass of water after a season of drought. I was just tearing my hair out yesterday with the chapter I’m posting this Sunday, definitely the hardest one to write to date, and I think it’s because I’m trying to reach into a period of imminent numb dissociation. I drag myself into the memory but I can’t find any substance there, my body was somewhere else. How to capture that absence with words...hmmm....
The howls of grief. I know them well. Reading this piece took me back to those moments. When my parents died at the age of ten, some of my best classmates showed up to the wake and funeral. I was so surprised and also comforted. I sat with them during the wake. It helped looking into the eyes of my friends and remembering that I wasn't just an orphan. It made me remember that I had a life, that I was alive, and could continue to have a life if I chose.
Jenovia, your experience of death at such a young age makes me ache. There is never a good time for such an initiation but at the age of ten? Your classmates showing up and being present with your experience is profound. I'm guessing none of them knew what to say, but there is never anything to say anyway. So as you describe, "looking in the the eyes of my friends" sounds like a lifeline and a hearth for your grief to land. Oof. This one punched me. Thank you for sharing.
“Dad’s brother broke the damn in all of us. Our soft, animal bodies awaken from shock and feel what is incomprehensible to feel. “
This piece reminds me that there is such kindness and generosity in another person being brave enough to show their vulnerability and raw emotion because in doing so, they make us all a little braver too. That’s what you do here with your writing. ❤️
I’ve been wondering about whether others would relate or be stirred into memories of their own experiences at memorials. Thank you for reading, thank you for sharing your thoughts. Happy to have you here.❤️
This brings tears to my eyes too. Beautifully told. Fierce and full of love 💗
Thank you... for feeling its fierceness and love. x
It touches me to see how your town came together at the memorial service. This is beautifully rendered, Kimberly, all the more so knowing that it must have been one of the hardest chapters to write. 🕊️
Thank you. I certainly felt the “village” on that day.
Re the difficulty of writing it—to be honest, sometimes the most emotionally heavy chapters have been the easiest, like drinking a cool glass of water after a season of drought. I was just tearing my hair out yesterday with the chapter I’m posting this Sunday, definitely the hardest one to write to date, and I think it’s because I’m trying to reach into a period of imminent numb dissociation. I drag myself into the memory but I can’t find any substance there, my body was somewhere else. How to capture that absence with words...hmmm....
The howls of grief. I know them well. Reading this piece took me back to those moments. When my parents died at the age of ten, some of my best classmates showed up to the wake and funeral. I was so surprised and also comforted. I sat with them during the wake. It helped looking into the eyes of my friends and remembering that I wasn't just an orphan. It made me remember that I had a life, that I was alive, and could continue to have a life if I chose.
Grief can be such a ghastly thing.
Thank you for sharing this.
Jenovia, your experience of death at such a young age makes me ache. There is never a good time for such an initiation but at the age of ten? Your classmates showing up and being present with your experience is profound. I'm guessing none of them knew what to say, but there is never anything to say anyway. So as you describe, "looking in the the eyes of my friends" sounds like a lifeline and a hearth for your grief to land. Oof. This one punched me. Thank you for sharing.
❤️
🫂❤️🔥
“Dad’s brother broke the damn in all of us. Our soft, animal bodies awaken from shock and feel what is incomprehensible to feel. “
This piece reminds me that there is such kindness and generosity in another person being brave enough to show their vulnerability and raw emotion because in doing so, they make us all a little braver too. That’s what you do here with your writing. ❤️
I love your insight Christy. Reminds me of a beautiful sharing I read yesterday by @Caroline Cala Donofrio -
Because right now, there is
someone
out there with
a wound
in the exact shape
of your words.
- Sean Thomas Dougherty (excerpt from his poem "Why Bother")
omg.
That is beautifully said.
Wow...what a powerful piece. I felt the yelling of your dad's name to my core. The tears, the hug - beautiful.
Ah! This is very moving. It brings back memories of my own. The last line is radiant. ❤️
I’ve been wondering about whether others would relate or be stirred into memories of their own experiences at memorials. Thank you for reading, thank you for sharing your thoughts. Happy to have you here.❤️
Of course.
Grief, powerfully expressed. An overwhelming rendering here.