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I went to a funeral today. My artist godfather had painted the entire coffin of his wife, vibrantly, with hearts and birds and colours. The thought of him painting it, the expression of his love to his partner of 33 years, using the same motifs he used to paint their wedding altar, it makes me want to think of ways to show love, to mark it. Both while my loved ones are still living, and to honour those now gone. How do we honour our love? Dedicate time to it? Make our grief a beautiful masterpiece of love?
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My nana died recently and the funeral was probably the best day out of a terrible few weeks
I enjoyed the (sometimes farcical) performance of the Catholic ceremony, which was so disconnected from her life and personhood that you kind of had to laugh (i did this inwardly only). The priest got my granddad’s name wrong in the reading and half-sang along to the hymns as he performed the rites, the way you do when you’re listening to music while pottering about the house
I talked with family I hadn’t seen in years, or had seen and pretty much ignored because it felt easier at the time
I enjoyed noticing how there are maybe two different kinds of nose and mouth distributed among the cousins (myself included), except one girl I was convinced was a relative on the strength of her appearance turned out not to be, so maybe I was just looking for shared qualities where there aren’t any. I don’t think that is a bad thing though
Nov 4, 2024
my mom passed away last year, and today would have been her 54th birthday
so, i grabbed ice cream and i took it to the river. my mom and i used to get ice cream and eat it by the river a lot. my mom loved ice cream. chocolate ice cream. and she loved rivers. i also love rivers. they remind me of my mom.
grieving is hard. and it’s hard every single day. but taking moments like this — to do things that my mom and i loved to do together — reminds me of how grief is just love with nowhere to go.
today i’m basking in the love that my mom had for me, the love she had for ice cream, for rivers. and i’m sitting in how much i love her. a love that feels trapped inside me. buried. most days it feels like anger and despair and regret. but today i’m focusing on the love. how lucky i was to have a mom who made loving her so easy!
happy birthday, mom. i love you immensely
Feb 7, 2025
It's been a week since my brother Jacob passed. He was the last person I expected to go—an extremely active cyclist, hiker, and traveler. We still don't know what exactly happened, but in a matter of only half an hour he went from making his breakfast to his heart stoping.
So many of his traits I admired so much felt like things I lacked; he was disciplined, reliable, and energetic. He traveled the world and made friends across the whole globe, it seems. He was always adept at math, a subject I always struggled with.
He was only 18 months my junior. I literally can't remember my life without Jacob in it. At some points in our childhood he felt like my shadow. Since we were homeschooled during the early years of my life we spent so much time together. I took that for granted, but now I'm so grateful for all the hours of fort building, hole digging, camping, biking, basketball, getting destroyed by him playing NBA Live and womping on him in Mortal Kombat.
I really regret simply assuming he knew how much I loved him. We were brothers. We fought, argued, and teased each-other. He was such an appendage to my day-to-day that I didn't ever stop to tell him how dear he was to me, how proud I was of all he'd done, how grateful I was for all he contributed around the house and with the family, and how jealous I was of his fearlessness with change and travel.
People ask how I'm holding up, and it's hard to answer because—all things considered— I am doing alright. The hardest times are when my brain and nervous system still haven't realized he's gone: hearing the creak of a door and expecting him to walk in after a bike ride—his cycling shoes clinking on the tile; learning some soccer news and wanting to text him about it; feeling eager to get his feedback on something I cooked.
But the most difficult thing has been encountering the pity and sorrow people have shown toward me, because that somehow reveals the scope of the loss and the depth to which folks cared about him and care about me. Knowing we share some impacts of this loss breaks my heart. I so deeply appreciate all the offers of help and reaching out, and yet I have nothing to offer. I have nothing for which to ask. My brain just short-circuits.
Perhaps the best thing you can do for me is to let your loved ones know how you feel. Find one person you have maybe taken for granted and share your love clearly so that they truly know how much you treasure them because they won't always be around.
May 6, 2024
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I used to be envious of people who had “MySpace friends” or “tumblr friends”. Now I have PI.FYI friends. Thank you capyboppy for your lovely letter and this illustration of a capybara and a mouse with fruit on our heads, it made me weirdly emotional ❤️
Jun 11, 2024
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is gig etiquette dead? Don’t go to a gig if you wanna just talk to your mates! go to a pub it’s what they’re for!
Dec 8, 2024
IT'S OUT MY RECORD IS OUT I LITERALLY AM CRYING. The culmination of 4 plus years of work. I'm...gonna go to bed now!
May 3, 2024