Essays
The Worst Moments of My Life Were a Gift
Trying to explain to people the abstract machinations of my life has been hard. I was in the room…no. I was holding both of my parents’ hands…no. I was right next to both of my parents when they died. Separately. Thirteen years apart. An avalanche of despair.
Hammer me until nails no longer feel like anything. Head hung. An ocean of tears pooling in my belly. Grief. Catatonic, yet walking.