I want to fill you in on what’s happening in my life, AND I want to give you fair warning: it’s a LOT.

Since the last time I’ve written, I laid my mom to rest and my dad has been diagnosed with the same cancer that my mom just died from.

You aren’t required to know what to say to these circumstances, because WHAT DO YOU EVEN SAY TO THAT? I don’t know what to say to it, and I’M LIVING IT.

While I don’t know exactly what this year’s work will look like because I’ve been thrown into Grief and Cancer Navigation Mode, I *do* want to keep talking to you.

We are trained to go quiet with grief, to go to our therapists with grief, and to move on quickly from grief. I intend to be loud and tell everyone and take as long as it takes. 😉

PODCAST EPISODES CREATED WHILE RIDING THE WAVES OF WHATEVER MY LIFE IS RN:

👉🏻 In ‘Internals and putting mom in the ground,’ I talk about why the day I laid my Mom to rest was NOT as difficult as ANY day of my late twenties. (I swear to you, it’s true, and I’ll tell you why when you listen.)

👉🏻 In ‘Doom and Gloom,’ I tell a story about my Dad that both makes me laugh and shows you exactly where I deeply censor myself in my work. (As always, I’m sharing because the odds of you censoring yourself in the same place are quite high.)

WHAT YOU CAN DO RIGHT NOW:

First: you don’t have to know what to say. Permission to not have a clue, granted.

Second: snail mail always, always helps. Just shoot me an email and I’ll send you my snail mail address.

Letters, cards, artworks by small children or pets, letters, magazine clippings, pieces of art, and general nonsense are deeply welcome.

If you wanna go next level, here is a list of things you can send me that will delight me at the moment.

Some are quite small and frivolous, some are enormous. Some are just Doordash to get through this time. I’ve included the full range so that you can see what making an effort to delineate my desires looks like, even from a space of pain. Perhaps it can inspire you to share your desires with others when you find yourself in a season of merde.

Finally: I love you, please don’t send platitudes.

So long as you’re not sending me the ol’ ‘everything happens for a reason’ or other vague lines to explain away my feelings of loss, you’re giving me space to grieve. I appreciate that so very much.

Thanks for reading, for listening, and for being one of my peeps. I treasure your presence in my life more than you could possibly know at this moment.

Hugs,
K