Absence & Grief

Dear friends, I’m sorry for my nearly month-long absence. I wrote to you not too long ago about a friend’s passing, and I’m deeply sad to report that I lost another friend, J, a few weeks after that.

In future days, when I think back on this summer of 2015, I will surely taste grief in the pit of my stomach.

I could write you a novel about the light that shone from my dear J’s heart and out his eyes and through his laugh. I could write you thousands of words describing how he stood and talked and danced. I could spend days telling you about the way his brilliant mind contributed to the fields of Queer and Chicana studies, and I could talk forever about the way his fiercely dedicated spirit fought like hell against social injustice. I could write poems about the way he embodied a trajectory of longing towards liberation.

I could say so many things, but instead I will say very few. Out of respect for his family and in courtesy of my own raw grief, I will keep this post vague and brief. I am grateful that I have been able to say more and feel more alongside a community of my friend-family who love him as much as I do.

I will, however, say this: I promise to spend my days working to honor J’s legacy through my activism and scholarship and relationships. I will devote energy to fighting against the systems of oppression that break down our most vulnerable. I will go on, remembering his laugh like a song my heart knows all the words to.

I couldn’t come back to blogging without saying something, but this particular story of grief does not translate legibly in blog-form. This particular story of grief lives in the borderlands of untamed tongues and wild tears. This particular story of grief is, for now, being held quiet on my lips and tight against my chest. This particular story of grief, I suspect, will be finding it’s way out in fits and starts.

I’ll return with regularly scheduled posts this week or next. Because life goes on, whether we can make sense of it or not.


Today, please, hug someone you love and tell them how much they mean to you.


7 thoughts on “Absence & Grief

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