dispatches from the brink: I take to food when life is a little too hard to handle
I like to lose and find myself in the processes-- it gives me an anchor in the storm + enough breathing room to get my feet under me
these new chocolate molds arrived just in time
the path unfolding for my family is testing our collective limits
it's testing our beliefs about the purpose and legacy of a life
it's testing our family's death customs by forcing us to figure out how to care for our dying during the time of pandemic
it's testing our will and patience, our strength and tenderness
my grandmother is actively dying
along with being in the late stages of Alzheimer's Disease, COVID ripped through her nursing home
she was rushed to the hospital last week in acute respiratory failure, acute heart failure, with pneumonia and sepsis and fucking COVID
in a middle of the night, an intubate or die moment, we decided to go against her DNR to afford her some time
but this process seems to have afforded us the ability to consciously decide each step along the path
it's given us the time to execute her wishes, to remove her from respirator support, all while allowing her the space + time to pass in the way she's meant to pass
we can't be by her side without risking exposure + some of us are high risk w/ lung issues
we can just have our daily (and recorded!) Zoom chats, calls with the nurses who are caring for her round the clock, and calls with one another to talk through the sharpness of what comes up
in all other circumstances each one of us would put our life on hold to hold my nanny in her last moments, but we're just held captive to it all
just bearing witness and letting go as openly as she is
death is beautiful to watch (we HAD to find the beauty in it after we lost our son)
she's giving us the chance to see her shift through the stages
she is helping us heal and grieve and holding our hands through the whole fucking thing
somehow this feels as much for her transition to a new life, as ours
anyway I'll write more
here's some ras el hanout fudge buddhas to honor Nanny's heritage and this wild path we find ourselves walking
dark and so damn bittersweet
