Grief Fragments is a raw, ongoing diary about being by my mother’s side as she faces terminal cancer. It is an attempt to process—and survive—grief in real-time, to stay connected to life in the midst of death, to write the unspeakable, to bear the unbearable, and to record the final months, weeks, and days I have left with my mother. I am writing for my life.
May 15, 2025
Mama said she isn't brave. I said she is brave. She is strong. She is choosing how to live out her final days with dignity.
Throw your pain in the river.
Leave your pain in the river
To be washed away slow.
—PJ Harvey, from "The River"
At times, I see how courageous I am. My very survival, the fact that I am alive at all, is a kind of defiance. I've had little help. The pain and loneliness have nearly destroyed me, and still I am here.
How will I face it? I already am facing it. I am in it.
I am on my own. No savior is coming. I must stand in the fire alone. No escape.
This is sacred. Life is deeply sacred. To be with her and to let her go. This will be the hardest, most agonizing experience of my life.
I could not let my father go. I could not accept his death. But I will have to release her and find a way to live.
I put my pain in these words. Language can hold everything. I've always known this.
I want love even more now. I want to be seen, held, touched, prioritized, adored, understood. I want someone just for me, someone who is a light in the dark. Does death activate the sensual and erotic? I think it activates our desire for love.
I wish I were a poet. It's all I've ever wanted. I wish I could turn all this pain into poetry.
