For my sister, in the style of McSweeney's Internet Tendency

February 1st, 2015

To the friends who were "too tired' to make it to my birthday party,

First of all, I want to say that I realize how hard the past few months have been on you. My parents being ill, then dying, then the first Thanksgiving and Christmas without them - well, now that we've made it to January, I have to say, I don't know how you made it at all! The exhaustion of being aware of your friend losing her parents at a young age, then awareness of your friend's struggle to deal with their disorganized estates, their medical bills, shit even their vehicles...well now that I've written all this out, I'm exhausted just thinking about it. You clearly have earned a long nap. 

And this cold winter weather doesn't help at all. At the end of a long week of work and being aware of your friend's dead parents, you really deserve a nice hot toddy and a lie-in. Self-care is incredibly important for friends of the bereaved, especially during flu season. Wearing yourself out with awareness of your friend's dead parents and upcoming birthday can only lead to sniffling, sore throat, headache, and ultimately questioning the futility of maintaining these fragile bodies we've been stuck with. Existential exhaustion can really mess with your sleep, and certainly doesn't put you in a celebratory mood! 

So in closing, I want to say how much it means to me for you to struggle with all this, and to in the end choose a good rest over showing up to my birthday party. You really took my mind off my parents being dead and all the shit I've been dealing with since my LAST birthday a year ago. I'm sure by next year, I'll have reconciled this whole dead parents/celebrating the annual creep of my own mortality dilemma. Keep in touch and I'll let you know how that's going! Unless, of course, that would uncomfortably remind you of the uncertainty of your own existence.

Love,
Claire, age 30 (!)

Saturday

Two years ago Stanley began playing organized sports for the first time. He started with soccer, on cold winter Saturday mornings, and we drove out to the fields off SW Archer Road. I missed his first game because Graham and I were still in the hospital after he was born, but all of Stanley's grandparents came out to cheer him on.

I am driving out Archer Road on a cold winter Saturday, and I realize that two years ago nothing was wrong.

"How's that bricklaying comin',
How's your engine runnin'?
Is that bridge getting built,
Are your hands getting filled?
...I am lost in my mind,
I am lost in my mind."