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One of my best friends in the world died today. Shea was my favorite cousin, just two years older but so much cooler than I’ll ever be. I always looked up to her, and had a blast anytime we hung out together. Most of the great memories from my childhood involved her.

My heart is broken. I’ll love and miss you always.

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In a Bat for Lashes Mood tonight 💜

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pride month celebration

A SINGLE MAN (2009) dir. Tom Ford

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Lovers in the Small Boat, Maximilian Pirner (1884)

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Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison in Folsom, California in 1968.

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A charming little window display found in my mom’s neighborhood today

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"The desire to be so perfectly absent

you could never die."

— David Jauss

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Pet Shop Boys - It’s A Sin (Wembley, 1989)

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A car radio bleats,

“Love, O careless Love. . . .” I hear

my ill-spirit sob in each blood cell,

as if my hand were at its throat. . . .

I myself am hell;

nobody’s here—

Robert Lowell, “Skunk Hour”

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What I’m current reading…

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Tonight

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“If there’s a list of people least likely to kick ass, I’ve been sitting at the top of that list for about 50 years.” - Colin Firth on why he was cast in Kingsman

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My grandparents back when my PaPa played American Legion baseball

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The Princess Bride (1987)

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Long post ahead.

Yesterday, we moved my grandmother into assisted living. I’ve been up here in Pocahontas for most of the week helping my mom pack and spending time with my precious MiMi, who had multiple strokes at the end of last year and cannot take care of herself anymore.

And she’s been looking forward to moving into her new place. It’s back in her hometown of Jonesboro, where some of our family still lives. She has multiple friends and old neighbors that are in this exact facility, and she makes new friends as effortlessly as breathing. My mom is staying with her there for a few days, and said that she’s doing well so far.

I know this is the right decision, and that she’ll be happier and safer. But the change has been surprisingly emotional for me. It’s not a shock that she moved, because she was talking about wanting to do this even before her strokes. She is 92 years old, and has experienced the worst moments of her life while living here. I completely understand her wanting to leave.

I stayed here by myself last night, which felt strange and hollow. For most of my life, my grandparents lived in Jonesboro. I was far more attached to those two houses than I am to this one, which they moved into back in 2010. Being here alone feels shockingly lonely…and I’ve lived by myself (with a dog) for several years. But this place—MiMi and PaPa’s house—is supposed to be filled with family.

I should be able to hear my hard-of-hearing PaPa’s booming bass explaining this year’s crop yield, my Uncle Bobby’s wall-shaking laughter, my Aunt Becky’s always-reserved, quiet alto as she cooks the best meal you’ve ever had. But they’re all gone now.

In less than a two-year timeframe, the three of them passed away. My uncle first, dying of an undiagnosed heart condition in his sleep at his home near Seattle. After being informed of his death, my mom and I joined my aunt up here in Pocahontas to break the devastating news to my grandparents. Witnessing the worst moment of their lives is one of the most heartbreaking memories of mine. Just two months later, that same aunt died of cancer, which was diagnosed about a year beforehand. My MiMi was adamant that she was going to be with Aunt Becky as she passed, as she wished she could’ve been with Uncle Bobby. She held my aunt’s hand as she drifted away while in hospice care.

This was January-March of 2020. My grandfather had developed dementia before this point, and my family could no longer take care of him ourselves…especially after the two aforementioned huge losses. We begrudgingly put him into a nursing home down the road from the Pocahontas house, and my MiMi visited him every day. COVID protocols soon hit, and she was only able to talk to him on the phone and see him through a glass window. The guilt of putting him there overwhelmed my MiMi and my mom, but it was unfortunately necessary. I think my mom still regrets it.

I moved to Texas in January 2021. I had to move to a large city for my then-job, and I loved Austin, so that’s where I chose to go. I hated leaving my family during such a difficult time, but they encouraged me to go live my dream. My PaPa even joked that he would drive down to Austin and see me.

His health deteriorated as the months went by. At the end of November that year, he passed away with my MiMi by his side. He was 93 years old, and held out as long as he could. He was easily the strongest man I have ever known.

I came home for his funeral, wishing that I could’ve been there with him as he passed on, or with my mom when she heard the news. During this time, I learned that due to the skyrocketing housing costs in Austin, my rent was going to go up an extra $600 per month. There was no way I could afford that, and my job agreed that I could work from Little Rock instead. A part of me hated moving back, because I loved my little apartment. My precious dog, Marley, had passed away months earlier from pneumonia while we were out there, and it somehow felt like I was abandoning him as well as my dream home in my dream city.

Being back near my family for the last two years has been the right decision, but it’s also been tough. One of my nieces has been in and out of the hospital with anorexia for nearly these entire two years. She’s been completely inpatient since last August.

Dealing with all of the aforementioned losses, plus my niece’s health, plus my lunatic brother’s violent threats, plus my MiMi’s strokes and deteriorating mental health, I don’t know how my mom even functions. My cousins and I help her with everything, of course, but she’s so fucking tough that she usually wants to do things herself, her way. I’m looking forward to her being able to finally relax knowing that my MiMi will be safe and happier than she has been in years.

So at this moment, I’m here alone in this half-furnished house, reminiscing. My cousins and I will take turns staying up here and fixing things until we sell it. I’m not mourning the loss of the house itself (as I did with my grandparents other two homes) but the fact that the concept of “MiMi and Papa’s house” now ceases to exist.

I’m lucky to have had my PaPa for 37 years of my life. I’m lucky be nearly 40 and still have my MiMi. She’ll be 93 in August, and though she stays positive, she has mentioned that she’ll be glad to be with my aunt, uncle, and grandfather again, as well as her other friends and family members who have passed. She’s not ready to pass on or give up, but she has no fear of death. I selfishly want her around as long as possible, and her chance of a happier, longer life is now much more likely with her move to this new facility.

These past four years have been fucking awful for my family and myself, but hopefully, a positive new chapter is now (finally) beginning.

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Your eyes have died, but you see more than I

Daniel, you're a star in the face of the sky…