Untitled (Or, The Importance of Recognizing Your Mortality)
It goes without saying that 2020 has been one hell of a year. And we still have 2 months to go. Apart from the anxiety, the dark days, and hoping that my ears aren’t permanently deformed by everything they have to carry lately (mask elastic, earphones, earrings, kitchen sink etc), I’ve been dealing with the loss of several family members. In quick succession. Not being able to attend funerals, and then not being able to hug people if I can attend, has weighed heavily on me. I’m a hugger, so this pandemic is tough. What has been even harder is the fact that funerals, for me, are still very triggering. Every funeral I attend takes me right back to when we laid my Dad to rest. The hymns, the readings, the wreaths- I literally get transported back in time and have to remind myself to breathe. Every time someone I know loses a father, I want to hold them and tell them how sorry I am, that I understand that feeling of the earth falling out from under your feet. And I miss my Dad. Dear God,