errands as distraction
Two weeks ago, I wrote about my nephew’s Make-A-Wish bus ride. (Buttondown) Thanks for all the kind responses. Emailing and texting and talking with people, I’m reminded that it’s not just my family “going through it.” Seems like everyone’s dealing with major crises they’re not entirely equipped to handle.
Jacob died yesterday afternoon. At home, surrounded by family, and on a ton of pain meds. For hours, it looked like he was almost asleep. Then he opened his eyes, looked clearly at all of us, and took his last breath.
We had assumed, based on previous middle-of-the-night emergencies, that the end would come loudly and violently at like 3am. I’d been sleeping with my ringer turned on, volume all the way up, ready for the call to come get the other two kids. I’d been mentally preparing myself for my “one job.”
Turns out my job was breaking the news to my niece yesterday afternoon when my cousin and I picked her up from school. And, since no one tells you there can be hours between a home hospice death and when the funeral home comes to collect the body, getting her the hell out of that house. Pack your suitcase, kid. We’re having a sleepover. Bring all the books and markers you want.
Our society has all these post-death rituals — wakes, funerals, services, repasts — that are supposed to help us grieve or heal. Maybe we don’t need the rituals as much as we simply need something to do. Like, after months of feeling helpless, suddenly there are calls to make and errands to run. It’s almost a relief, because it's something we can actually control, and for a minute or two we're not thinking about our loss.
After my maternal grandmother died, as my mother was going through my grandmother’s closet, she broke down when she got to the shoes. One of my most vivid and absurd memories of that weekend: My brother tossing fistfuls of old-lady pumps and sandals into an unlocked dumpster behind a supermarket while I sat in the getaway car, engine running, looking for cops. Sorry officer, our mom told us to do this.
This time, instead of filling dumpsters with shoes, it’s finding proper disposal locations for prescription drugs. Returning unused medical supplies to a hospital social worker who promises they will go to people who need them. Driving over to the DC Diaper Bank, where the dudes were psyched to unload a trunk full of unexpired formula.
And in between errands, stuffing my face. Because family friends also want to help, and Uber Eats is happy to take their money.
PS: If any family friends are reading this and tempted to send food, maybe wait a few days? That refrigerator door can barely close.
Links
You can buy Prada at Walmart. (Walmart)
A truly wild story about my go-to NY hotel. (NYT)
At this New York City boutique, migrants shop for free. (CNN)
RIP Greg Lee. (LA Times)
I kind of want to try hypnosis to get over my fear of flying. (The Cut)
Book recommendation: The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store. Incredible. (Author's site)
Why most new sofas are trash. (Dwell)
Virtual bubble wrap. (Brainteaser)
The first item on this list of lifehacks: If your dog is upset by the vacuum, yell at the vacuum. (DeMilked)
Defense Defecation is my new band name. (Live Science)
There is a whole Facebook group devoted to extreme dishwasher loading and the language they use is hilarious. (Wired)
Punk IT support asks if you’ve tried punching the monitor yet. (Hard Times)
Gynecologist wheels out from under legs to ask nurse for socket wrench. (Onion)