.SOMETIMES RAW.

Last year, Joel, my nine-year-old son, asked me, “Where are my great-grandmas and great-grandpas?” Both my grandmas and grandpas passed away within a very short time in the past two years. When Joel asked about my grandparents, my first impulse was to avoid the conversation since death felt like such a complicated, painful topic.

Before my grandparents’ deaths, I’d had a lot of exposure to death due to my work as a police officer but fortunately little exposure to loss within my family. As I grew older, I learned more about grief, which (slowly) has helped me live with my emotions. The process made me understand the importance of talking about grief, as it is an inevitable part of life for us all.

So, I didn’t ignore Joel’s question. I researched how to talk to kids about death and then explained to him that they all had died. Now I regularly talk to him about death and what grief feels like. One way we have continued the conversation is by reading children’s books. Here are my five favorites: 

1. The Dead Bird by Margaret Wise Brown (ages 4-7). “The bird was dead when the children found it,” is the first line of the book. A group of friends decide to say goodbye by burying the bird in the woods, as well as singing “the way grown-up people did when someone died.” This book gently introduces the concept of death and mourning to young kids. I have read this many, many times to Fianna. She usually just listens, but she recently asked “If our dog dies, can we have a celebration for her, too?” 

2. The Rabbit Listened by Cori Doerrfeld (ages 2-6). Taylor builds a tower of blocks but it gets knocked down. Different animals come to offer comfort, like the chicken who tries to get Taylor to talk or the hyena who laughs about it. But the rabbit listens as Taylor works through many emotions. This book illustrates how we can support loved ones by simply being there. Both my girls love this book.

3. Why Do I Feel So Sad? by Tracy Lambert (ages 4-8). Written by a counsellor who specializes in loss, this book shares different reasons why we may feel grief — death, divorce, changing schools, losing friendships — and things kids can do to try to feel better, like moving their bodies, expressing themselves through music and talking to friends. In the end, Lambert also shares advice for parents, including how to talk to children about grief.

4. King and the Dragonflies by Kacen Callender (ages 8-12). In this award-winning chapter book, 12-year-old King loses his older brother, Khalid — and, in his grief, believes Khalid has turned into a dragonfly. The book deals with race, sexuality, friendships and love. I was moved by the bravery the character displayed in learning to love himself, and I can’t wait to read this book to my kids in a few years.

5. When You Trap a Tiger by Tae Keller (ages 9+). When Lily was a child, her halmoni (Korean for grandmother) told her folk stories about tigers. When Halmoni becomes ill, Lily, her mother, and her older sister move in to help care for her. Shortly after their move, a magical tiger from Halmoni’s stories comes to life and Lily is forced to face the tiger while also grappling with the reality of Halmoni’s failing health. When You Trap a Tiger is a beautiful story of illness, family, and learning to find your way.

What are your favorite books about grief? Do you have any grief experiences you hope will be written about?

*when things seem sad, weird or grey.

I have always been a cheerful sort of person, able to find the silver lining in just about any cloud, but sometimes times are rough, and I, or we all need a little uplift when simply trying to remain hopeful does not help. It is important, even in hard times not to lose sight of the beauty and wonder and delight.

The other morning, standing under the hot shower, I decided I needed to make a list of things to look forward to. I thought perhaps other people might need such a list too, and maybe they could collect their own things, and together we would build a whole stockpile. No matter how gloomy the clouds, I told myself, there is always something bright – even if we have to squint to see it. Even if we have to create it ourselves. Here are some things to keep in mind:

1. The sun is coming up. President Barack Obama once said, “No matter what happens, the sun will rise in the morning.”
2. Coffee and Cafés.
3. A hot shower. I never take a hot shower for granted and never underestimate its power to make me feel better.
4. Baking something for someone.
5. Hugging a friend.
6. Kissing.
7. Learning something new.
8. A new word. Words like “staffage”, the little figures in a landscape painting; or “hispid”, meaning “covered in bristles.” My goal is to use them casually in conversations.
9. Applause. See a play, concert, etc. Uniting with strangers, sharing an experience, and expressing our joy in collective applause is one of life’s pleasures. Or applaud your partner for a dinner well cooked.
10. First snow.
11. A cup of tea. If coffee is the boost that propels you into the day, a cup of tea is the soft landing when you inevitably come back down. Comforting, reassuring, procrastinating tea. Sometimes the idea of tea will suffice; it is enough just to put the kettle on.
12. Flowers.
13. Listening or songs and singing along.
14. Scattering wildflower seeds.
15. A flock of birds.
16. Patting a dog.
17. Rain. Especially, warm summer rain.
18. Rainbows.
19. Giving a present.
20. Opening a present.
21. A full moon.
22. Skinny dipping. Before we were born, we floated naked in warm waters; then we grow up and put on clothes. Most of us spend the day with our bum on a seat and our feet on the ground. If the opportunity presents itself I shed my clothes and jump into my icy pond.
23. Collecting stones. Heart-shaped ones.
24. Seeing the sea.
25. Rereading favourite bits of a favourite book.
26. Reading. Period.
27. Clean laundry.
28. Clean bedsheets.
29. Moving the furniture around.
30. Reorganising things.
31. Finding something you thought you had lost.
32. Tidying up.
33. Dinner. With my loved ones.
34. Visiting a museum.
35. Finishing something. Like my new book which will be published in July 2023.
36. Falling in love.
37. Writing a letter. We dash off electronic messages all the times, but when we sit down to write a letter, we think more about the person reading it. Will they rip it open and read it right away? Will they put the kettle on and take their time? Will they write back?
38. Receiving a letter. Does anybody, besides me, still write letters?
39. Feeding the birds.
40. Working up a sweat. Pilates, Yoga, Jogging, whatever makes you happy.
41. A drink of water.
42. A nap.
43. Growing your own food.
44. Harvesting.
45. Walking in cemeteries. I walk in a cemetery to remember the dead, to peer into the mausoleums, to admire the mossy stone angels. You might visit loved ones or to wander the garden, to watch for birds, to look for names – for a child, a pet, a character in your new novel? Either way, it is hard not to leave a cemetery feeling alive and happy to be here on earth, grateful for the brief time allotted us, isn’t it?
46. Going somewhere. If we are lucky, we can look forward to leaving our regular lives behind for a while. We might pack a few belongings in a suitcase and go somewhere else for a change of pace, a new perspective, a different scene. We might take a train to the next town or chase the north’s lights across the Arctic Circle. No matter where we go or how we get there or who we meet or how long our stay away is, sooner or later, we will look forward to coming home.
47. Coming home. It is a wonderful thing to travel and see the world, and an even better thing to come home. To unlock the doors and drop your bags and do your laundry and open your mail and put on the kettle and make tea. To kick off your shoes and take a hot shower and climb into bed and rest your head and pick up your book and read half a page and fall asleep and dream and dream.
48. Making a list. If you are in a rut, if you feel overwhelmed by gloom, if you are exhausted and uninspired and out of sorts, you can make a list of things to look forward to. Simple things, everyday things. Things that don’t cost money. Things you can do without leaving the house. Things that bring you pleasure. Things that you don’t want to take for granted. Things that may never actually happen but are fun to look forward to all the same. And if you make such a list, you can share it with a friend, and it might make us all feel better.
49. Seizing the day. For all this talk of looking forward, most of the things on this list can be done right now. If we make the most of today, we will have a better future. If we view time as a gift, we will be less likely to squander it. If we look for beauty, we will sure to find it. If we help our neighbours, it will lift our spirits. If we finish something, we can begin anew. If we open our minds, we will expand our brains. If we plant some seeds, there is a chance they will sprout. If we pick the flowers, more will come. If we use up our ideas, we will think of others. If we remember the dead, we will feel more alive. If we are kind to ourselves, we will be kinder all around. And if all of this fails and it is one of “those days”, then there is always tomorrow. No matter what happens, the sun will come up. You will see.

Welcome to MySugr,

your neighborhood’s new charming small business. We sell provisions. We won’t tell you what that means, but we used a wavy, sans-serif font and put our name almost indecipherably small in the top right-hand corner of our storefront window. We hope that helps you “get” our “brand.” A rainbow flag is obviously visible on a huge flagpole and as a sticker at the door.

Other than that, we don’t feel like we need to explain ourselves to you. If you don’t instantly feel a spiritual connection with MySugr, then you can buy your provisions elsewhere. We don’t interest ourselves in doing “business” in the traditional sense.

All we’ll say is that most people who walk past our store end up surrendering to our whimsy, and eventually, you will too. Before you can fully grasp the concept of what a “provision” actually is, you will probably be lured into our store by the scent of a distant winter memory. That’d be one of our house-made candles; it’s called “Romance of the Ember,” and it’s meant to invoke the image of a woman who has just been left by her husband and is sleeping by a dying fire.

Once inside our store, you’ll be instantly ignored by our employee, Max (non-binary), for she might be churning butter. If you have questions about our products, do NOT ask “them”. She/he is timid, and her/his voice is too soft for the human ear to hear. We recommend just looking around and determining a product’s use or purpose for yourself.

We won’t explain why, but here are some of things we offer in exchange for money (“sell” is such a harsh word):

• A delicate bespoke broom that you cannot use for sweeping.
• A stool too low to sit or put your feet on, and too fragile to place anything on top of it. Don’t even look at it, actually.
• A forty-eight-euro bottle of olive oil, which might almost make sense to you, until we explain that only half of the bottle is full of olive oil and the other half is just air, but the air was sourced in Tuscany, of course.
• Numerous specialty foods, which means we have ten different kinds of gourmet mayonnaise but not the kind you like. Next to the mayonnaise is where we display our line of hard, wooden, color-free baby toys for babies who live and die for aesthetics over function. Babies with good taste.

Also, on certain Mondays, for one hour, we sell discarded human teeth in little jars. It’s up to you to decide whether or not that’s legal.

Perhaps you’ve come to MySugr to buy a holiday gift, or you’ve simply stumbled in and remained out of guilt because you’re the only person here, and Max is staring at you from her/his rocking chair. Whatever brought you in, rest assured we offer something for everyone. And by that, we mean that there is nothing for anybody, especially if you’re looking for something. So don’t come here to shop for something, or expect to find anything at all. Does that make sense?

We don’t really care. MySugr exists as more of a commentary on commerce than as another cog in the retail machine. We refuse to explain ourselves to you, but when you do come in, prepare to be wowed, to be a little bit nervous, to be extra careful when touching our products, to gaze longingly at tiny handcrafted spoons that you want for no explicable reason, and to leave asking yourself, “Wait, how did I just spend sixty-five euros on mayonnaise?”