Getting Back to Life After Saying Goodbye

This is my Grandpa, Jack. I swear to god his face and hair looked exactly the same his whole life.

This is my Grandpa, Jack. I swear to god his face and hair looked exactly the same his whole life.


My grandfather passed away on Friday. Yesterday was a wild, frenzied afternoon walking through his house and trying to figure out how to tackle the cleaning, giving away, and preserving of his and my grandmother’s belongings. I rummaged through their house for a few hours–the air conditioner was broken and the house needs about an inch of nicotine scraped off the ceilings. I’d JUST gotten my port straightened out (didn’t need to be replaced, just needed an infection to clear up) and my PICC line removed, so I was already feeling like I’d been punched in the chest.

I carried a huge box full of recipe books to my car before I realized that crying and weight lifting and asthma and POTS don’t mix well–and that there was no way I was going to be able to even begin tackling this project alone. And when I say “begin” I really mean “begin” because this is literally something that could take several people several weekends to make a dent in.

Mom and Alan made the funeral arrangements and when R.J came home from work we went over to their house for a quiet shabbot dinner that our friend Devorah had brought us from the kosher market.

We were supposed to go back over to the house today to start bagging things up–but when I stepped outside this morning to take Happy for his walk it was about 80 degrees with crushing humidity. We walked for ten minutes and when I came back I felt like there was no water left in my body. I infused two bags before I realized just how hard yesterday had hit me.

I went to Target to pick up some garbage bags and post-it notes, but by the time I got back, again, I needed an IV. Spring in Florida is no joke. The heat is incredible and I don’t know how I’m going to keep up with my current pace while not falling into a flare.

One idea I have is a backpack.

I’ve been researching ways that I could be more mobile with my IV attached. I decided that I need a backpack–tall, good straps, skinny, that will firmly hold a pole that will hoist a bag of saline above my head and let me infuse while I walk around. I found a bag normally used for oxygen tanks online and I’m going to go to the craft store after it gets here to try and figure out how to trick it out.

Screen Shot 2016-03-26 at 5.31.06 PM

This will be a good project for me. Even though I have a lot of work to catch up on (I had an almost embarrassing amount of rain-checks this week) and two more chapter revisions for the book (while they review the revisions I’ve already sent in) I still think having something else to preoccupy myself with will be good.

Yeah, maybe that and a reflexology massage.

And Netflix.

And belting out Mariah Carey ballads in the car.

And maybe I’ll eventually stop crying.


Time Hop

I guess I meant to post this about a week ago. I stopped mid-post here and just had to get back to my life for a minute. My grandpa’s death was hard on my whole family. Especially my mom. She’s writing her own journey here:

Since then things have started to cool back down or at least get back to normal.

950c36e8517e155bb79ebeef51e88961I got in another batch of revisions for the book. I love my new team of editors at New Harbinger. They make me feel like this book won’t be complete and total crap for a first time author. But seriously, they’ve helped me to do some major editing to make it so much more functional. We’re almost there.

But in some other seriously great news, my future brother-in-law, Joey, who I’d written about a few months back having been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer (at 25, out of the clear fucking blue sky,) completed chemo and had a cancer-free petscan! I think my entire family let out a sigh of relief. I think it’s the best news we’ve had lately and we sure needed it.

Well, thanks for putting up with the long silence these last few weeks–and thank you to those who reached out with condolences. It means a lot to know that support is there.

Coming soon: advice that actually has to do with chronic illness and not my dead grandfather’s life-long perfect hairstyle. (Which, whatever, was totally worth mentioning.)



11 thoughts on “Getting Back to Life After Saying Goodbye

  1. You are one of the most talented writers on the entire Internet!

  2. I’ve never ever read anything better!

  3. I came to the same exact conclusion as you did.

  4. I’m not a big fan of sauce.

  5. Way to go on making a great site!

  6. Don’t forget the grilled onions!

  7. Way to go Edward. This blog is amazing!

  8. No one can ever say this site is boring!

  9. Would you like some popcorn?

  10. These two are some real messy eaters!

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