chrissy.city

my city, my rules

Category: Grief

  • Come take your toll

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , ,

    The pollen has been making my eyes droop.Sleepily I tend to sections of itin clumps.Chickadees and woodpeckersand yellow-bellied warblersare indifferent and happy. You say, “You can’t tell me what to do,”as I sign for the check,“But I’d actually like it if you did.” On that dreary Monday,we stack carnationson top of one anotherwhite and red…

  • The Limpkin

    —

    by

    cc
    in , ,

    and what of the Limpkin, roaming (or perhaps looming) in Little Bay Lake.  Long skinny legs that seem to creep through shallow waters in stooping steps. An almost equally long beak perfect for nosing at the Apple Snails it seeks. What of it, and its light spotted brown and white feathers and round torso, crying…

  • Hymn

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , ,

    It was your child I held in my arms, beneath a sky full of fireworks I wish the stars could match, if we’d let them. When he was smaller, he called me Cwissy. He would’ve said your first name the same way, but you were Dad. Oh, there’s something about names. In your blue eyes,…

  • believe while I tremble

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , ,

    “And you came here at 5:55 am. I’m glad you have somewhere to put your feelings, even if it’s just this.” The parking garage is cold when I hug my cousin’s warm body. I don’t tear up because I know I will talk to her again soon. I will plan a trip to see her…

  • In bocca al lupo

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , ,

    A quick physiology lesson on a woman before her period: progesterone drops; serotonin dips; emotional thresholds lower; unmet expectations land harder. Admittedly, one out of four of those things is specific to me. Today, for some reason, my anger feels louder. Anger is just extreme hurt in wolf’s clothing, and I’m so tired of being…

  • for Hannah

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , ,

    “… but some ties run deeper and you can’t help but feel it. This one was that.”

  • a Death Doula on yearning 🎧

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , ,

    I wonder what she is feeling for, what she is noticing, as I talk at her. Because she is a death doula, we often come to the topic of death, which I find equally soothing as the moment she wraps a heavy hot towel around my neck and face.

  • oh, woe is me 🎵

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , ,

    Can I be vulnerable for a sec? Oh, I’m already vulnerable? Thank you for reading me, whoever you are. Even if you just skim a paragraph, or roll your eyes at a sentence. Thank you for any moment where you exhale and think, “That was good,” or “That was funny,” or if there was even…

  • You’re number one 🎧

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , ,

    One of our clients has Alzheimer’s, and her children are having to put her in memory care. I also learned that, unbeknownst to her, she has stage four brain cancer. Sometimes I wonder how I ended up in a career like this—one where life events pop up often enough to force you into a headspace…