#my grandma died and my other one is likely dying AND my only uncle died 3 years ago and it's only being addressed in-person now

[mothmvn]

fun part of being an immigrant: on top of processing grief from far away, the rare times we get to visit it all hits all over again bc now we're seeing it in person. in the meager time we have here

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

One of my younger cousins came out as trans which is like “okay, cool. Good for them” the problem is that until that point she was assumed to be a boy and has I believe two brothers. They all looked really similar and now that they are all older it’s even harder to tell who is who (aside from the girl sibling). Now, I’m already pretty face blind and only saw them about three or four times a year growing up, so, since her family isn’t using her deadname (and fuck yeah they better not!) I don’t actually know which sibling had their name changed. I couldn’t keep track of the names already and now I’m like “I don’t want to call one of them their sister’s deadname but it feels awkward to ask kids I knew since they were babies what their name is”

[uglypastels]

You're On Your Own, Kid / A Munson Story

a/n I got this random idea today of "what if Eddie had a long lost sister" and thought it would be fun to just drabble away at it, but the drabble got longer and I got more and more invested in these two dorks, so yeah, I might write more about them if anyone is interested..

word count: 2031

warning: swearing. Mentions of troubled families. not much else[?]

Taglist Temporarily Inactive - Masterlist - Requests through Inbox

When the Hawkins gang met Eddie, the first thing they learned about the Hellfire Club leader was that he was a talker but rarely talked about himself. He can go on for hours talking about DnD campaigns or the latest fantasy book he's read [and don't get him started about the upcoming Metallica album. He will not shut up,] but he rarely reveals anything about himself. Learning about his past was more of a scavenger hunt of his life story's tidbits rather than... a story.

The worst part was that Eddie did not even realise he had done this. Perhaps he assumed everyone knew everything about him (since most act like that anyway, accusing him of shit left and right.)

Thus, moments like this happened as Eddie was talking about how he needed to fix his car because the last time he drove it, it shut down in the middle of the road.

"Made me think of the time my dad's car flunked and he send me and my sister out to find someone to call for help since we didn't have a phone."

"What?" Robin asked.

"Yeah, we had to walk like fice miles until we ran into some shack. Nice lady lived up there. She gave us cookies." Eddie shrugged, reminiscing.

"No, no that," Nancy clarified Robin's question. "You have a sister?"

"Oh. Yeah." Eddie just blinked. "Didn't I tell you guys?"

A collective No erupted all around the room. So, Eddie was forced to tell them everything about you. How you were only a year younger than him, always a pain in the ass, but a great sport to tag along in all of the shenanigans that he came up with as a kid. The two of you were inseparable until your dad landed in jail for the one too-manyeth time, and you were separated.

"I went to live with our uncle, while she went upstate to live with our grandma. She would have taken us both but her house smelled too much like sauerkrout."

"Do you still see her?" Steve asked.

"My grandma? No, she died last year."

"Your sister." Steve said, failing to hide the exhaustion caused by the conversation.

"We used to visit each other every summer and all the school holidays, but you know, as we got older, we just grew apart, I guess. Last year, she went off to college, then granny died so we saw each other at the funeral, said we’d call but neither of us did… and we haven't really talked since." Eddie started finicking with a loose thread on his ripped jeans as a moment of heartfelt silence fell across the room. 

 Robin broke through that flawlessly, however. ‘So, call her now,’ she called out. Eddie looked up at her, bewildered. 

‘What, like right now?’ 

‘Yeah, invite her over to stay for the summer. I’m sure she’ll be glad you have re-entered civilisation and made some new friends.’ Robin’s eyes grew in size with excitement as she declared all the new plans, and the rest listened intently, whether they wanted to or not.

And that’s more or less why you were woken up in the middle of the night by the phone ringing. 

‘Hullo?’ you grudged out, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. ‘Hey, Judes.’Your brother’s voice came from the other side quietly, not at all what you were used from him… not that you were used to hearing anything at all these days. 

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You checked the alarm clock next to your bed. Why the hell was your brother calling you at 1 am? 

‘Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I’m just with some friends and—’ 

‘Let me stop you right there,’ you cut him off, ‘are you either A) dying or B) in prison?’

‘No, I’m fine.’

‘Then why, in god’s damned name, are you calling me at this fucking hour?’ There was a moment of silence. Some mumbling on the other line, followed by a hushed curse as Eddie presumably checked the clock and finally realised what time it was. 

‘Shit, sorry. I didn’t even realise it was this late, like I said I’m just hanging out with some people.’

‘Figured.’ You grumbled, letting your head fall back onto your pillow. ‘I’m hanging up now, E–’

‘No wait!’ He shouted hard enough to wake you up again, as well as all your neighbours. ‘I wanted to ask you something.’

‘Then just do it. I’m trying to sleep.’

‘Would you want to come back to Hawkins for the Summer?’

‘Why the fuck would I want to go back to Hawkins?’ The sweltering heat was nothing to be missed, and the last time you were back in your hometown, the most interesting thing that happened was a man getting attacked by an owl. Of course, you missed your older brother and waited with a heavy heart for the day that he himself left that shithole to pursue the dreams you knew he still had. 

‘My friends want to meet you.’

‘I’ve been to like 5 of your “concerts”, you dork. I know all of your friends.’ Your eyes were getting heavier by the second, and all your energy was being used to remember to hold up the phone to your face and respond to whatever nonsense Eddie was spewing on the other end of the line. 

‘No, I uhh— I made somed new ones, believe it or not.’

‘No fucking way. At your grown age?’

‘Fuck off.’

‘No, fine, I’ll come. Will have to check with work but I’ll let you know this week.’

‘Ok, cool.’

‘Cool.’

‘Cool.’

‘I’m going to sleep now.’ 

‘Cool.’

‘Fuck you.’ And with that, you hung up. Not even five seconds later, you had dozed back off. 

Simultaneously, Eddie hung the phone back on the wall, feeling both as if a weight had fallen off his shoulder and as if he had just swallowed a giant boulder and was sinking to the bottom of Lover’s Lake. 

He turned around towards the room and was met with three awaiting pairs of eyes. 

‘And?’ Robin nudged him to speak.

‘She’s got to check her schedule.’ Eddie shrugged, not thinking much of it. That’s how your conversations have been over the last few years. Schedules always seemed to be booked, but promises would be made just to be broken over and over. So when his friends looked so excitedly at him, he was unsure what to do. After all, he doubted that this would be the time things would be different.

And how wrong he was. 

The next day, you called him back, this time waking him up at a slightly more human hour: noon. 

‘Sorry, I forgot you were taking your nap.’ You joked, certainly much to his appreciation, before telling him you got a few days off in the upcoming month. Maybe it was his abruptly awoken state, but it took a moment for the penny to drop and Eddie to react. And even then, it was a bit lacklustre. 

‘Ok, great. See you here in a few.’

It wasn’t your fault. At least not yours alone; in truth, you felt the same. Your childhood had not been a very stable one, as you moved from house to house as your parents tried to cling onto any job until it was finally too much. You and Eddie got dragged apart into two completely different sides of the world [that’s how big Indiana felt at the time, at least.] But no matter what, there was always one thing you could count on your family for: disappointment. 

Somehow, they [you and your brother included] just always managed to screw things up in the most fashionable way. To the point that it was easier not to have any hopes for anything because you knew that, to a certain extent, they would never be met. 

So, in the days leading up to your reunion, you didn’t let yourself be excited or dare to think of what to do or say to Eddie, only expecting a phone call from him to cancel everything with a half-assed apology. You knew that he was most likely awaiting the same thing from you. 

But somehow, against all odds, none of that happened. The days went by, and there were no changes to any plans. Your drive back to Hawkins was as smooth as ever, up to the Welcome sign. 

You weren’t entirely surprised to have learned that Eddie was still living with your uncle, but at least that was an address you knew all too well. It was really only once your wheels started to graze that gravel road that the reality of the situation hit you. And there he was, standing at the door of that damned box on wheels, hands in pockets like he always used to do when he was nervous, swinging back on forth on his feet. The only change was the cigarette between his lips to calm himself down. 

Assumably, at the sound of your approach, three heads popped out of the trailer door. More or less. You could see them looking through the little curtain that usually covered the window. You drove until you couldn’t any longer and stopped the car, taking the time for three deep breaths before getting out and into your brother's arms. 

‘You smell like shit.’ They were not meant to be the first words you said to him, but the ratchet stench of weed was overwhelming. 

‘Good to see you too.’ He hugged you tightly.

‘So good.’ You hugged him even tighter until he squeaked out in pain. 

Eddie groaned as you let go of eachother. ‘I really missed you, Judy.’

‘Wait, Judy?’ The curious heads finally popped out from behind the curtain and stepped out into the trailer's front yard. So it really was true: Eddie had made new friends—friends who looked particularly confused, just like you and Eddie had predicted at four years old. 

‘It’s just what Elroy calls me,’ you pointed at Eddie. ‘Don’t worry.’

‘Judy— Elroy— wait, like the Jetsons?’ The guy in the middle said. His brows had knitted together as he deducted this conclusion to your little joke, and you had to admit he looked pretty cute. 

‘Exactly like the Jetsons. It was one of the only things we could agree on watching together.’

‘Well, that’s just adorable.’ The girl on the cute guy’s right said before introducing herself. ‘I’m Robin.’ She waved her hand with a slightly awkward smile. ‘That’s Steve,’ she poked the guy in the ribs with her elbow as he just stood there like a lost, yet excited, puppy. 

‘Right, hey, hi.’ He leapt into motion, extending his hand for a shake. 

‘Hi.’ You replied before letting go, then turned your attention to the other girl who politely awaited her turn.

‘I’m Nancy. It’s really nice to meet you. Eddie’s told us so much about you.’

‘I highly doubt that.’ You laughed, glancing over at your brother, who you never knew to talk about personal things.

‘We might have forced him a little bit.’ Robin admitted. ‘Would you like a drink? We got some rootbeer on ice inside.’

‘My favou-

‘We know,’ they said in chorus, confirming the previous statement made.

You heard your car door open and shut behind you, and when you turned around, Eddie was hauling your bag over his shoulder.

‘You could have just left it in the car for now.’ Sure, the trailer park was full of interesting characters, but no one would go as low as stealing from their neighbours. 

‘It’s not safe.’ Eddie huffed out over the weight of the bag. ‘Not since the raccoon?’ 

‘Raccoon?’ You blinked, looking between Eddie and Steve, who held the door open for you.

‘It’s better if you don’t ask,’ Steve said, making you want to ask even more. As you entered the trailer, with endless images of what could have happened between Eddie and that raccoon, the smell of popcorn filled the small living room, and you found your spot on the couch next to a politely smiling Steve, you suddenly felt like your Summer in Hawkins could end up being quite interesting after all. 

[southeastasianists]

Tan Ming Li is a certified death doula. Just as there are those who facilitate bringing new life into the world, there should be people facilitating more and better ways to talk about death and dying, she reasons.

In 2023, she started The Life Review, a social venture with the mission to normalise conversations about death, dying and bereavement. Events open to the public include Life Stories, a series of chat sessions with topics such as “Motherless daughters”, “Real men don’t cry” and “Pet loss and our enduring bonds”; as well as Death Over Dinner, in which people come together to have conversations guided by Tan about their personal experiences with loss while sharing a meal.

The last Death Over Dinner took place at South Indian restaurant Podi & Poriyal, where participants were served dishes containing ingredients with special life and death significance in South Indian culture such as black sesame seeds, which signify purification; and jackfruit, the wood of which is often used as funeral pyre logs during cremation.

“What better way for Asians to connect than through food?” said Tan, explaining that Death Over Dinner is actually a global movement that originated in the US, “but we tweaked it so that food was a much bigger component, building the conversations around the ingredients and dishes. In other countries, the concept is just for people to talk about death over the dinner table.”

Tan, who is in her 40s, believes that getting comfortable with talking openly and honestly about such topics is vitally important.

“A nationwide survey conducted last year (by the Singapore Management University) revealed that ‘only 53 per cent of Singaporeans are comfortable discussing their own death while barely a third (33.4 per cent) would do so with someone who is dying’,” she shared.

She feels there is also a tendency to over-medicalise conversations about death, focusing on treatments and doctors.

“As a society, death is not something that is commonly discussed and we tend to be ‘death-denying’. Healthcare and wellness are all about ‘preventing’ death. In fighting against death, we are unaccepting of this natural part of life. This makes it hard to be vulnerable about our emotions around it,” she said.

Even if you haven’t lost a loved one yourself, “When someone else experiences a loss, many of us don’t know how to address the topic and end up using platitudes like ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ or worse, ‘Everything happens for a reason’,” she pointed out.

Ironically, avoiding the subject of death inadvertently gives it more power. “This power can then suppress our thoughts, beliefs and behaviour,” she opined.

NO STRANGER TO DEATH AND DENIAL

Tan speaks from personal experience. When she was 17, her mum died of cancer. “Dad said, ‘Don’t worry, she will recover.’ Her sudden passing left us in shock. I remember my dad brought me to the hospital canteen, broke the news to me and simply said, ‘We just have to accept it and move on’. I don’t think he ever recovered. As far as I recall, there were no conversations about it within the family.

“In the years that followed, I lost my dad, grandma, uncles and aunts… I was frozen in my grief response and it took a mental health crisis for me to start addressing these issues.”

Concurrently, Tan had always been interested in social work, from her university years when she volunteered to support children with special needs, to volunteering to teach yoga and breathing at various institutions including the Society for the Physically Disabled (SPD) and the Institute of Mental Health (IMH). She also lived in Thailand for several years, where she gave her time to a social enterprise helping indigenous craftsmen sell their goods.

Her career was in Advertising Research until she took a sabbatical and travelled to India in 2013. Following that period of time in which to think and reflect, she embarked on a new path, offering services such as mindfulness and movement.

“In the course of my work, I encountered clients who are terminally ill or grieving the loss of a loved one. Curious about how to better support them, I started researching the topic,” she recalled. “One day, I received an email from students working on a grief literacy event, inviting me to facilitate a somatic movement session for parents who had lost their child. Somatic movement involves exploring the body's sensations and movements to promote healing. During this session, many participants were able to release long held emotions within their bodies, even years after their loved one had passed.”

Motivated by the experience, she enrolled in the death doula course offered by the International End of Life Doula Association, an organisation in the US. Participants acquire skills revolving around how to support and comfort the dying and their loved ones.

“As I delved deeper into the subject, I realised that this was something that needed to go beyond supporting my clients one-to-one. The societal reluctance to discuss death openly leads to a lot of discomfort and unresolved emotions surrounding the topic, and I realised the need to scale and bring this out to the public,” she said.

So, “I decided to pursue a Masters of Science degree in Thanotology – even doctors go, ‘What’s that?’ – and start The Life Review as a platform for people to get comfortable discussing end-of-life matters through education and engagement.”

As far as she knows, she’s the only one in Singapore taking a Masters in Thanatology (“When the course started, the Programme Director said, ‘Now we are an international programme, thanks to Ming Li!’”) and one of just four people in Singapore who have completed death doula training.

“While trying to help people going through bereavement and grief, it struck me that I also had to look at my own experiences and work through all the emotions and experiences that I hadn’t known how to deal with – or even realised was necessary to,” she divulged.

“The way society operates, if we experience a loss, we are given three days of compassionate leave – and only for immediate family – and then we are expected to get back to ‘normal’ as productive members of society. But what about losing a friend? A partner? A pet? Do you get over it in three days? Since the norm was to get on with life, that’s what I did. It was only later in life that I realised that it was affecting me in ways that I did not immediately connect back to my earlier experiences, such as in the way I interacted with people in relationships and friendships. I would not get too close in case they would disappear,” she shared.

And so, “The main reason I’m doing this now is because of what I have gone through in my own life. The programmes I’m planning are skewed towards caregivers for now, as I don’t want anyone to be in a situation that I was in.” She added, “It was a turning point for me to adopt cats, knowing that they will die before me, yet to accept this and love them.”

Her work has also turned into “my legacy project for my parents”.

“I have a purpose to fulfil now, to bring The Life Review into fruition, in the remaining years left of my life. And in a way, I’m already planning for my end, making sure that I don’t regret things that I could or should have done,” she said.

DINNER WITH A PURPOSE

At Death Over Dinner events, “The framing of conversations is intentionally designed to be inclusive and non-confrontational. Participants are encouraged to share their thoughts and experiences without feeling pressured to delve into deeply personal reflections or imagine their own funerals,” Tan said.

The dinner serves as a casual starting point for discussions about a normally taboo topic to unfold naturally, fostering a sense of comfort and familiarity around the topic of death, she continued. “The intention is not to impose rigid guidelines or restrictions but rather to offer gentle guidance and prompts to steer the dialogue in a constructive direction” while embracing cultural elements within our specific society.

It is also about equipping people with the knowhow and language to either walk alongside a person who is dying, or to support a caregiver.

There are sessions taking place every quarter, which are open for individual sign-ups. The next Death Over Dinner event is planned for Apr 25 at Podi & Poriyal, with a group size of 12 to 16 people. Tan is also open to private group bookings, and hopes to possibly work with other restaurants as well.

The topic of death is rarely broached when everyone is healthy, she mused. But, in the face of loss, which comes sooner or later to all of us, “People may struggle to find the right words to express their feelings or fears, fearing that broaching the topic could cause further distress or discomfort to the person who is ill. As a result, conversations about end-of-life wishes, funeral arrangements, or even acknowledging the possibility of death may be avoided altogether, creating a palpable tension and unease.

"Dealing with it openly and saying what needs to be said can help the ones left behind adjust to the loss after the person passes away.”

And, “In the case of someone who knows they are dying, people around them not wanting to talk about it can leave them feeling unheard. They may not be able to express their desires; there may be things left unsaid; there may be people tiptoeing around them and telling them, ‘You’re going to be fine’ when they know full well they won’t be.”

The question of how we can begin to approach the topic of death in a meaningful way begs another: How talking about death openly and frankly can help us to live our lives more fully and intentionally.

“Accepting the finite nature of life and finding peace with it can change our outlook on life. When we acknowledge that life inevitably starts and ends, we are able to define what happens in between that holds significance,” Tan said.

“How do we make what happens in the middle matter? How do we leave a legacy for ourselves and future generations? Do we want to spend our time sweating the small stuff and harbouring grudges, or instead, use it to create memories and foster deep relationships? Living intentionally prompts us to confront these questions and align our actions with our values.

“Ultimately, embracing the impermanence of life compels us to live authentically, love fiercely and leave a legacy of compassion and connection.”

To sign up for Death Over Dinner, visit https://thelifereview.org/death-over-dinner.

[puppysdog]

its feels. idk how to put it really. but feels some sort of way to mourn and miss someone i never met. My uncle passed from AIDS before i was born. other than me and one younger cousin whos starting to figure some stuff out, he was the only gay person in my very large family. i never knew till i was much older that my mom had a brother, and even older after that when i was told how he died, still whispered and still barely talked about. the most i learned about him was from a drunk cousin a few years back, who when she tried to bring it up to someone else, they immediately left the conversation with near disgust.

i barely know anything about him, and yet i miss him so much. my heart aches that we never got to meet, that he never learned his sister’s kid would grow up like him and then some. i miss the conversations we wouldve had, i heard he was funny and nice and gentle. whenever i visit my grandmas house and see his room, kept clean and set with a painting of him on the wall, i wonder if he wouldve loved me like i love the ghost of him. i get angry when i hear how he was treated, how his memory is still treated, but i know i cant say anything to my family because i wasnt there when he was alive, when he was dying, and they were. theres grief in my heart that im unsure how to handle. whenever i see the art pieces those with AIDS and those who lost lovers to it created, i dream of making something for my uncle. something to remember him by even if i have no memories of him, to let his ghost or spirit or whatever know that he wont be forgotten. i dont know what ill make yet but whatever it is, i hope he wouldve loved it

[adelle-ein]

it's been. quite a week "lace it's tuesday" yes.

it's hard and weird when a relative you don't get along with dies, and you're supporting everyone else in their grief while biting your tongue. it's hard because my siblings don't actually remember her and say things about how much she loved us that aren't based in reality at all. they even called her "grandma" which she never went by. it's not a coincidence that me and my oldest cousin were the two grandchildren who chose not to speak at the funeral (because we were always the barricade standing in front of the younger ones to shield them from her, and he was very much her least favorite to boot.)

she'd been dying for years to be clear. my aunt was speculating and thinks she probably had dementia for an absolute minimum of the last sixteen years, and her physical health has been awful my whole life (she'd been on and off hospice for about five years? they'd put her on and then she'd live too long, they'd take her off, etc.) she just. would not die. like i think we're all really relieved she died, even the family members that really did love her, she just had no quality of life or anything anymore the last couple of years. but yeah hospice called and said she was going to die a week ago and they were actually right this time.

she was mean and horrible long before dementia though. the story my dad told at the funeral just made me think of how awful she was. and some of the other "funny" stories my family shared just horrified me. and it was the smallest funeral i've ever been to, we only just had a minyan. because nobody wanted to come because she had no living friends and drove off a lot of her family. some she outlived, some she just abused. the only person other than her sons' families who came was my great-uncle on my mother's side, who isn't related to and didn't know grandma (they might've met at weddings and b'nai mitzvahs if that?) but lived nearby and decided to come. and while i'm not his biggest fan it was very nice of him (and the only reason we had a minyan and didn't need to grab random funeral home staff. sigh.) we had a rent-a-rabbi bc my aunt and uncle's was booked and he kept trying to come up with like...things to say about her? generic grandma sentiments. that were generally wrong.

my aunt wanted us to divide up a box of grandma's costume jewelry she had (apparently she's had it for years but was too scared to divvy it up until grandma actually died since grandma has yelled at her for gold digging before. Yeah. goes without saying but aunt is not a gold digger in any way) and i'm thinking of the stuff i took as gifts from her, not from grandma, because like. i don't want stuff from grandma. but a lot of it is stuff my aunt made and stuff that's genuinely cute and i'll enjoy having i just have to like. separate it. and i got to see oldest cousin for the first time in years so that was nice. and my uncle's doing the best i've ever seen him for a number of reasons and my aunt seemed to be doing well too (and she and cousin both made me dairy free mandelbrot loaves haha) (and she addressed both me and my brother as graduates which is really sweet bc most family is straight up ignoring my graduation so far)

but you know. things are complicated life is complicated i'm gonna rant to my therapists and bite my tongue in front of family bc it really is the right thing to do

i am exhausted though after the stress of rushing out of state rushing to funeral rushing back planes cars being in florida which is my personal hell, blah blah, Travel Shit and concurrently dealing with some medication-obtaining issues and worrying about my conferral and falling behind on work and just not having time for therapy. sigh

[whostolemygoldfish]

I have a story, that I was reminded of by a poll about purses.

So my great aunt died from cancer in early 2020 from lung cancer. It came out of the blue, because she was only in her early sixties and had never smoked, and was always healthy, except for her slight leg issues which she had a cane for. I live in the middle of nowhere, right on the Washington/Oregon border on the east side of the state. She grew up here too with all of her sisters, however she moved to Portland and lived there since the eighties or nineties. She always came home for summers, holidays, parties, and she was a big part of all of it. She always had an old little digital camera that she constantly took photos with.

I got in my car and drove four hours in the middle of the night right after I got the call from my grandma saying that she'd passed. I spent the next few days in Portland mourning and cleaning out her house with my family, and my life was a dark blur. The will was read and I got a small sum of money, not that I cared much about it, but I also got her camera. She left it to me in particular. I went and found the camera in her bedroom, it was in her little brown leather bag that she always carried it with. It didn't work, no matter what I did, and I was devastated.

So, I took it to a little electronics store in downtown Portland to see if I could get the photos off of it. I'm sure when I walked in I looked like hell, my hair was wild with curls and my green dyed section had faded, and my eye bags were probably just as dark as my all black mourning clothes. They guy at the counter, maybe a few years older than me, asked what I needed and I explained. I'm sure there was some tears, but I was too tired to notice. He said he'd do it for free, because he could see it really mattered. So i waited. It was about an hour later when the guy walked out from the back of the store, with a sim card in hand. At least I think it was a sim. I'm not good with stuff like that, hell I can barely run my phone sometimes. He handed it to me after putting it in an envelope with a smile, and I drove back to her house.

I was staying in her living room on a blow up mattress, my cousins had already taken the couch and the other blow up mattresses, and my grandma and her other sisters were sleeping in the other two bedrooms, her office, and a hotel down the street. You really feel it when you're surrounded by her, in her house. I sat down on my impromptu bed and pulled out my crappy little laptop and got one of my cousins to help me get all of the photos on to it.

And there it was. Thirty years of photos. My mom's fifth grade graduation was some of the first photos on it. Then there was her and my three uncle's middle school and highschool years, all laid out in their grainy glory. Next was my mom's collage dorm, and then my tiny newborn body laying in the hospital. My mom was only twenty when she had me. My cousins when they were first born, too. Then our entire lives. Every Christmas, every beach vacation, every birthday, every wedding, of anyone we've ever known was all in film right before our eyes. We cried all together on the floor there. Me, my cousins, and my little brother.

I brought them home, and had them all printed. They were at her funeral. Now they sit in a small seashell box, she loved the beach. I carry the little bag that the camera was in as my purse, and it makes me think of her every time I use it, and I smile.

Love you, aunt Sal.

[what-if-nct]

wait- why’s everyone turning 30 all of a sudden? ARIANA GRANDE IS TURNING 30? SELENA GOMEZ IS 30? YOONGI IS 30????? WHAT THE FUCKING HELL? I THOUGHT THEY WERE IN THEIR 20S!!!!

no please don’t tell me johnny is turning 30- it would be a nightmare to see a guy like that turn into a dilf- 😭

breaking news, wonho is 30. WHAT THE FUCK GUYS? EVEN TAEMIN IS TURNING 30! WILL YOU GUYS STOP TURNING 30 AND TURN ANOTHER AGE LIKE- idk 69 or 420- oooooh that’s a sick number! i wish i could turn 420 and then smoke wee- OK THAT’S ENOUGH OF THAT!

oh yeah we’re dying on jaehyun’s birthday in 2046. everyone blame it on jaehyun because it’s his fault. also, 2020 was 3 years ago?

Yeah, 93 babies turn to be 30, Then next year Taeil will be 30, and Sehun and Kai. Also my best friend and sister are like anticipating my 30th birthday more than me cause next year they're turning 30 and I'm like passing the 29 torch to them. Especially my sister cause we'll be 29 the same time for two months till my birthday. 30 is no different than 25. It's not a big deal. It just feels like dude I'm like an adult adult, I'm close to Carrie Miranda and Charlotte's ages in sex in the city. Which if you watched Sex in the city you'd know Carrie was still an absolute mess in her 30's. I honestly thought they were in their 20s and Samantha was 30. till they mentioned their age, then when they flash back to the 80s when they were 20 and Sam was 30, they looked like kids and their teen mom. Our perception of age is so skewed.

Time isn't real, it's made up. I am just trying to heal from everything in my 20s. Cause I do feel like I wasted most of my 20s cause I had to take care of my aunt since I was 25, and I do hold some resentment not gonna lie cause she treated me horribly but I was the only one able to help her, I honestly still hate I had to move in with her at 23, I don't know why my uncle thought that was a good idea. I'm sorry but that woman is genuinely evil. She told me and my sister we were the reason my grandma died and stood behind it when my sister called it out. She did not care. We were children when she passed. How can you blame children. You have no idea how much I wanted to just move out without saying a word. But rent is so high right now,

But I really started acting out at 24 just to have some resemblance of "fun' in my 20s. Which just led to me developing so much trauma I still haven't processed properly especially since the worst of it is only a few months fresh. And I just want to try to heal and I'm sure I'm playing catch up compared to people age I'm honestly just happy to make it this far. And that's what really matters every birthday you made it no matter the scars you brought with you, you made it. But at least I have a better sense of who I am. I did think I didn't know who I was had a whole breakdown. But it was just I thought who I am just isn't good enough and I have to be someone better.

So I'm trying to learn who I am is good enough and outside validation doesn't matter. Loving your body is easy, that's nothing been there for years. but loving who you are that is the hard part especially when you think you're not enough or you think you're too much and everyone hates you and you need to mold to a likeable version of yourself. And everytime I think what is wrong with me, I've always been made to feel who I was, was the problem and no one is ever going to love me but I hear with age you care less about what other people think and I really hope it is true. Happy 30th birthday all the 93 babies, you're doing just fine no matter where you are, no need to rush take your time.

[freebooter4ever]

Hmmm memories. Grandma would love my tree.

I printed out a photo and mailed it to her in a christmas card but its not the same.

I was sitting in my chair and thinking about how i really should have a second one because it's extremely silly to have only one seat. Eventually i will expand my circle of friends, eventually im gonna want to invite people over who will not willingly sit at the bar for the whole time, i need a second seat.

But it also got me thinking about Grandma in ohio and her set up with two armchairs right next to each other in front of the TV.

When I was tiny, like really really little, like less than 4 feet tall little, I was terrified of the dark/sleeping alone. My one grandma (callyerdogsoff) helped out by recording a cassette tape of her reading my favorite books: "Sarah's Lion" and one about a ballerina. Every night I would play those on repeat over and over again until eventually I fell asleep and it would run to the end of the tape and then turn off.

My other grandparent's - the italian ones - solved this problem more directly. They would shove this ratty textured 70's lounge chair thing up against the end of their four poster bed and let me sleep there. The lounge chair had very boxy three sides and was flat and with the extra edge formed by the bed, essentially made a very large crib.

Now this was the house my dad and his three siblings went through high school in, so there were perfectly decent bunk beds in the boys old room I could have slept in one of those. But because I'd get scared grandma and grandpa always let me stay at the foot of their bed and fall asleep to grandpa's snoring.

Anyway, in october this year, the night before I took the flight back to LA, even though I knew I had to wake up at 3am, I snuck downstairs, through the farmhouse, and over to Grandma's little cottage, careful not to wake my aunt and uncle.

I knew grandma would be reading because of the number of times in the months after grandpa's death when I'd have to go take the book out of her hands and turn the light off after she'd finally fall asleep. And sure enough, she was in bed reading, and I crawled in on grandpa's side next to her, just to spend a little bit more time with her. And we were talking, and laughing about how both of us have queen sized beds now and neither of us use the whole thing - we have our 'side' and don't like to cross it. Grandma because from age 19 on she always had grandpa beside her. And me because im just used to having a twin bed, lol.

Grandma asked me if I wanted to sleep there next to her, and I declined because I knew I had to get up at an ungodly hour of the morning and I really didn't want to wake everybody on the farm. But also because it felt a little weird taking grandpa's spot instead of being at the foot of the bed.

And then she confessed something that just absolutely broke my heart. She said that sometimes when it's just her alone, in her chair in front of the TV, with the empty chair sitting next to her, she pretends like grandpa's sitting there and she's talking to him.

I have a lot of regrets about everything that happened after grandpa's death - i dont think we should have moved grandma from seattle that suddenly and quickly. She lost her entire support network and community AND her husband of over 65 years all in one go. And my aunt complains that now she won't socialize with anyone outside the family.

Grandma and grandpa had their first date when they were 14 and 17. And my bitter mother used to tell me that the only reason they stayed together was because they were of a 'different generation' and they secretly hate each other just like my mom hates my dad. But it wasn't true. My grandparents were in love up until the day he died - even when dying in the hospital while he was slightly delirious on pain meds grandpa was jorking about him and grandma 'necking'. And whenever the three of us went to the museum of flight during my visits back home from the burgh, grandpa and I would wander into the exhibits to look at the history. And grandma would sit in the main atrium to people watch and socialize. And grandpa would always make sure we checked in on her regularly because - as he put it - if he left her sitting there alone too long the old men would start flocking.

Anyway, I was just sitting there in my drawing chair tonight thinking about how I didn't even have a second chair let alone someone to imagine in it. And it also got me thinking about how much grandma would love my christmas tree.

[ddontyyoukknow]

beauty as tragedy. tragedy as tragedy. I am the eldest daughter of an eldest daughter and eldest son. I am the eldest daughter of an eldest daughter of an alcoholic father and the eldest daughter of an eldest son of an alcoholic father. One of my alcoholic grandfathers was saved. he went to rehab and recovered. My other grandfather died all too quickly. the last time I saw him I was about 4. His other son that is not my dad is following in his footsteps, and I feel less angry at him molesting me when I was 4. it takes the wind out of my anger when he's dying. he got kicked out for not working and was homeless for some time. he got to the point of no reasoning in his addiction. no-one ever tried to talk to him about it before or confront him on the damage he was causing. it was as if he thought he would be able to go on like that forever. his aggression didn't make talking about it in a serious manner possible. he was on his way to my dads house since he had gotten kicked out for the second time. he was lying to all of us about not drinking. on his way to my dads house he got stopped by the police because he was sleeping on the side of the road with an open container and he got a dui. the withdrawal of actually not drinking was so bad he ended up in the hospital dying after banging his head on walls. I don't know many details. I was never so close to him. but I can't imagine what my dads going through. he was dying and since he was on his way to see my dad he ended up at a hospital an hour away from my dad. my mom and dad had been going to see him everyday and I can't imagine what is was like for my dad to see my uncle like that. his brother. I can imagine him being able to compartentalize the death of my grandpa but my uncle was his very best friend for the longest time. and to see him unable to speak and in pain. not himself. I can't imagine what that does to someone who might not want to express sadness. I can't imagine what it was like for my mom not to be able to be with her sister when her little nephew died. my dad called for my grandma and great aunt to help him take care of my uncle the the had dispatched him forms he hospital and now he's back into hospital. his healing is going very very slow and his court date is coming up. a lot of us think this is the only way he would have quit drinking. he hated aa apparently bc they spoke too much about god. and he was certain god isn't real. if god was real then why did bad things happen to them? why didn't his dad take care of him dn his brother and mom. why was he so neglected. surly god isn't real. with so little juice in the tank of his soul how do you muster the strength to beat an addiction, and to ge tot he bottom of the need to have an addiction in the first place? how do you take care of your three children. you can't help but be cruel and hard on them. god isn't real, and your dad was both absent and overbearing and he would beat you. and you grew up in a toxic culture where suppressing emotions was cool and showing emotions or listening to others was completely a no go. now you are dying in a hospital with the people who love you the most around you taking care of you. and maybe you'll find god. maybe you'll find the will to live. maybe you'll die. maybe you'll leave your three kids to fend for themselves. those sweet kids who always deserved a dad. I don't know three cuter more well behaved and lovable kids. and I hate that they didn't receive what they deserved from you. you had so much potential. and now you were in your brothers house, falling defecating and bleeding all over his home as he took care of you. and he still joked that even when he saw you all beat up and dying in the hospital he felt horrible but didn't cry because he's too "macho". and that's where you come from. and it was a privilege for me to be in an age of more informational d to be in an environment where I feel like I can feel, and to be lucky enough to be an open minded person. but there is value in every point of view and experience. to judge you is to assume that there isn't

[kellymcsblog]

A.L.S- Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. Patients with this disease have about 2-5 years to live. My dad lived for 2 and a half years. (Yes this sounds sad and yes it is but I enjoy talking about him and bringing awareness to the disease.) I was 9 when my parents called for a family meeting which was weird cause we don’t do family meetings. I don’t remember much from this time but I remember being told my dad was diagnosed with ALS. I went to my room and searched up what the cure was. In that 2 and a half years I never thought he would die. I never could fully comprehend the idea of that. With the progression of ALS he started walking with a cane, then couldn’t drive, then a wheelchair, and then a fully equipped wheelchair. I was so confused all the time. I mean this wasn’t what other 3rd graders were talking about. It put a lot of stress on my family. It was August 8th, the night before me and my sister were flying out to Maine to see my grandma, uncle and aunt. He passed away in bed. I don’t connect sadness with that night anymore. I know I was sad but I think I just shut that part down. The funeral followed and I was playing at the park with my friends outside of the church. Still 5th graders don’t really want to sit at a funeral no matter who it is. As sad as this is it is also just life. My dad always said to my mom (i found out years later) “if you’re crying because i died you’re crying for yourself because i’ll be happy in heaven”. I think one of the hard parts is not being sad until he’s randomly brought up. My english teacher played a video on a man who had ALS. She asked the class who knew what it was. Of course nobody but me raised their hand. All my friends stared at me so I went to the bathroom and cried. It’s time like those when I miss him the most. I hate being the only one i know who fully understands the disease. How him dying wasn’t the hardest part but so many days during it. Anyways, that’s the story of my dad.

[sillyfriendssharingablog]

Quick summery of Bloody Tiger's lore

since my fic is getting slightly complicated and not everyone that is looking thru my blog has read it I'll drop here some basic information about Tiger's story. It's very abridged and very toned-down btw, and it also doesn't take itself seriously.

Azedi, when she was born her parents gave her the name Jamila that she later had got rid off because it was lame, was born in Herat, Afghanistan 1970. Her father wanted a boy really bad and when she came out he repudiated his wife, that from then on used baby Azedi to physically vent on (abuse), and became totally absent from Azedi's childhood, appearing now and there to traumatize. Azedi grows with no one taking care of her, beside her grandma during her first years of life but that icon died fast, and when his father gets some other women knocked up, she takes care of her siblings, that end up becoming 10. When she was 12, her father makes a very surprising comeback in her life, but only because he wants to sell her to the marriege market. Azedi, OBVIOUSLY, refuses, but even after fighting she is forced to marry her uncle, a 60 y/o that lived the other side of the country. After a month of that horrible abuse Azedi snaps and stabs her "husband" multiple times during a nervous meltdown, kiling him. She runs away scared and finds safety in a nearby forest, where she stays hidden for a few months, getting in touch with nature. Nothing lasts forever, and Azedi is found by a group of soldiers that had their small base nearby, what a coincidence that base was a satellite base for the XOF. When they find this girl they do the most reasonable thing ever, they keep her with them. But trainging her to use weapons and to fight, but also treating her inhumanly. After two years Azedi escaped from this guys (and she also kills them all via poisoning but that's a spoiler for the fic), and went back to her forest.

Venom, in a mission had to enter that satellite XOF base, but he founds it completely empty. Azedi notices his presence, and in fear that he would have found her and took her to another military base, for more abuse, she decided to try to kill him. Obv that doesn't work and Big Boss takes her to base. After a few days of keeping her in a cell because of not knowing what to do with her, after she had told them what she knew but she was extremellyviolent, they decide to keep her with them. After a few weeks she starts to act more humanly and more like a 14-year-old, after getting comfortable there. But then she meets the little British Gamer boy Eli, that after seeing her fight against a soldier, wants her help to escape the base. She says yes because she, even if she liked that place, didn't like living under someone, and accepted. Eli thought that after using her he could easily discard her and move on, but oopsie daisy they fall in love (they were the only pre-teens there it was obvious that it would have heppened). They get together (sorta), and after an importan event which I can't talk about because spoilers, Azedi and Eli fly away, with Tretij help, taking with the the Sahelantropus. They live happily in their island until that fatass Venom comes and ruins the fun so they have to leave. When they leave the island, they have a fight. Azedi wants to rebuilt a normal future for them, far from war, but Eli wants to go bomb people instead. So they break up, promising to meet again tho, and go their own ways.

Azedi arrives in New York and she goes round for a couple of years, trying to find a job, someone to house her for a while, school, etc. But she ends up homeless, without a penny and almost dying of hunger. After a few years she ends up becoming a thief because there wasn't really any better option but she gets arrested. She lives in prison for 5 years and after a while she escaped. When she returned to the city, she abandoned completely all her hopes of Eli returning and saving her from that awful life and having their happy ending. She decides instead to use the only thing she is good at to make money: killing. So she becomes an hired killer, and works this dirty job she hates for years. It gave her enough money to live but her ends up waisting a lot of them, due to her depression causing her to end up in addictions.

After 19 years from their breakup on a legendary night Eli, now Liquid, and Azedi met again. After an emotional moment Liquid makes her join the Foxhaund squad, because he realizes that he made a worst mistake letting her go. They get together (AGAIN), but this time they get wed. The shadow Moses incident happens and I can't continue from here because I have to write it in my fic yet.

Basically, Azedi had a very succesfull and satisfying life, fulfilling her pourposes and always being able to do what pleased her <3

[poetryep]

i always thought of my mom's family as being closer in some way or more open with each other than my dad's family. after my last encounter with them i've realized that i was wrong. i don't think i really understand my mom's family anymore. not like i ever did really, but at one point i thought so.

i know that one moment can affect someone forever, and i can see it laid so bare to see in my mom's family. although i've never met my grandma, being in my grandpa's house with all my aunts and uncle i could feel her loss in the room with us.

and all my relatives trying to pick back up the lost pieces of themselves taken from her absence.

their sadness is palpable in the room and none of them are happy with themselves. it's hard being around such depressed individuals with no way of helping them.

the smoking, the drinking, the anger, the drugs.

they never found a healthy way to heal together. all they know is alcohol and all they know is anger. the generational curses are generationally cursing.

there's a lot of bitterness among them as well. a lot that i think very few of them have looked too deeply at. it's why they are so unbearable with each other. they all remind each other of their childhood and who they lost. and who they will never get back.

it's hard living in a family and trying to find your way through all the pain.

they were all so young when she died, it's as if the grief raised them. it's all they know and all they know how to address each other with.

i've never seen my mom and her siblings talk about their mother dying and the pain of it without any drugs involved. they feel comfortable enough yelling at each other, but not about the things that keep them apart or the things that only they understand about their childhoods.

on the drive back home from fond du lac, my mom told me how my aunt teri was the only one of her siblings who took off the entire semester of school after their mom died. my mom said that she just "couldn't handle anything after it happened".

50 years later and they are all still children in LA moments after their mother died, trying to move through it in their still live bodies, still moving body.

[shinobirain24]

Speedy

The Red Shadow

Lian's POV:

Star City may have Green Arrow for protection. But he is not alone. Being Speedy, I am his shadow. When things get rough, that's when I come in. Pretty cool, right?

I was trained by the master swordswoman, who is the head of the Order of the Phoenix. My dad once had this mantle before I was born. The original Green Arrow died when I was a kid, I used to considered him an uncle.

Most people viewed little girls as weaklings and easy prey, like Little Red Riding Hood. But in truth, not all of them are. You see, I am not like regular girls. In Star Academy, I am the best at the Kickboxing team, and an amazing athlete. Most kids my age never dared to mess with me, not even boys. Sometimes it better to be feared, than to be seen as weak.

Also, at the start of freshman year, I met Joey. We've been best friends since we're outsiders ourselves. He's a good listener. And he's very sweet, but too shy. That's why we've been each other's only friends, cause we were always alone.

But one day, I moved to Gotham to live with my Grandma. And when she had a guest over, that's when I met my sensei, Nyssa Al Ghul. She took me to Japan and taught me combat, swordsmanship and archery. But I was a fast learner, people called me Speedy.

With my master's permission, I returned home to Star City for the holidays. That's where I saw Green Arrow again. I thought he was a ghost that criminals cannot take it anymore and were scared to death. But once I realized he's the new guy taking the mantle, that's when he told me his name, Connor Hawke.

Connor told me he traveled all the way from Korea to find himself a path. He said to me that the original Green Arrow had given him the mantle in his dying wish. I wanted to fight alongside him, but he refused at first. Thinking I was just a kid who would get myself killed! He was just two years older than me and he called me a kid?! For crying out loud.

But after the 100 put a hit on him. I knew I cannot stand and watch. On the way, I found a lair that was once Green Arrow's, the Quiver. There, it was my Dad's old costume when he was Speedy at the time. Well, the rest was history. I beat Syonide in a scuffle, saved Green Arrow. And finally, he accepts me as his partner. Not a sidekick. That's how I became Speedy, the Red Shadow.

Oh, in exchanged, I work in the garage Connor worked at, repairing motorcycles, it was good pay too. Plus I get to enjoy the hotpot dishes he cooked. Best boss ever, but more like a big brother to me.

Take that, Batman and Robin. Star City has a new Dynamic Duo.

But the real mystery I have to solve remained cold for years. The question is: Who is my mother? And why did she left?

[derryhawkins]

oof

[schnoogles]

1) Artist of the image above: Jenny

2) Help Our Voices Be Heard: Sign the Petition

3) Thread of violent crimes against Asian Americans 

4) Amanda Nguyen on NBCnewyork

5) David So podcast 

6) WongFu Productions ft NextShark (asian american news) Founder Benny Lou

7) Daniel Wu and Daniel Dae Kim on msnbc

8) politicians pitting POC against each other (as per fucking usual)

hey guys, happy Lunar New Year! i really hope you’re all doing well and i wanna wish you guys a happy and healthy new year!

honestly, i wasn’t sure if i wanted to make a post about this, i’m not a very articulate person and i’m sure there are stronger voices out there. and usually i try to make my time on tumblr as positive as possible b/c let’s be real. the world is shitty and memes are my small source of fun most days. but this topic hits too close to home.

so in case you didn’t know, the hate-crimes against asian americans are fucking bad. i mean. this has been going on for years but the rise of hate-crimes has increased since COVID (obviously). and it's really really hard for me to sum up just how angry and frustrated i feel when i watch yet another video of our elders being attacked, brutalized and killed. just for being asian.

this may be the first time you’re hearing about this violence if you aren’t asian or you aren’t following asian american news because the mainstream media does not spotlight our stories. one of the main issues of this whole thing is that the media just... ignores us. because asians are the “model minority” and we have the “good stereotypes” so every hate-crime that’s ever happened to us is normalized and gets brushed under the rug or forgotten after a while. (like hi, united airlines? the rest of world may have forgotten, but we haven’t) &like the media only just recently started talking about this because people were making an uproar and applying pressure to them. and guess what? racism against asians is a real thing. we matter. we’re not fucking disposable. and like Amanda Nguyen recently said, “We’re dying to be heard.” Literally. in the last couple of weeks alone, countless of hate crimes have occurred against the asian american community. specifically, against our elders. from the murder of an 84 year old Thai man, to the robbery of a 64 year old Vietnamese woman, to the Filipino man who had his faced slashed on the subway. this is happening all across the US (and i’m sure other western countries too)

and right now all i’m asking is for you to share this. or make your own post. tell everyone about what’s going on. spread it like wildfire. let the world know that our stories matter too. we all need to band together to fight this. and i’m not talking just asian people. like, if you got a mum or dad. grandma, grandpa, auntie or uncle. and you don’t want to see them be assaulted when they’re minding their own business? then we’re on the same side. it’s easy as that.

idk more thoughts under the cut

okay i may just be regurgitating all the same fucked up news but there’s just something horrific about watching an old asian lady being robbed at the grocery store as she’s shopping for the lunar new year (a time which SHOULD be filled with joy and kindness and family and love) and about watching an old asian man getting assaulted for just walking down the neighborhood and then knowing that he died from those wounds. and they’re especially horrifying because when i see these elderly people getting attacked, i see my own parents. my aunties. my uncles. and a lot of these crimes are happening in my own city. like okay, i’ve been attacked for being asian. i can handle it. my parents CAN’T. they are old and weak and vulnerable. they're easy targets. 

it’s scary. and it’s also confusing because these attacks are happening in pretty diverse cities. San Francisco, San Jose, Oakland, NYC. and the fact that these are attacks aimed at the ELDERLY really fucking makes me sick you know? i can’t get over that. these are people who came to this country thinking it was a land of opportunity. a place where they could build a family and a life. a home. and they’re out here minding their own business and they get attacked. and FOR WHAT. what kind of shitty ass person attacks the elderly?

what infuriates me even more is that this is happening during the Lunar New Year time. a time where we’re supposed to be celebrating family and prosperity and unity and new beginnings. a time where we’re supposed to be kind to one another. and instead people are being murdered.