there aren't enough cliches for this
it's been a year. a year today. 366 days ago i had to make the decision to take you off your breathing support. it took about 24 hours for you to physically leave the planet. i think of you [and frankly many others] almost daily. i see the stuff i walked down the street from your house to mine and it reminds me of the way you laughed. the obsession we shared for beauty. the meticulousness with which you curated. i am still legally wrapping up all the loose ends. i have learned a lot about the mechanics behind the scenes of death. i remember making calls trying to find a crematorium to use that could get you, didn't cost 3x more than another, and didn't offer these hokey "full luxury" packages of boat trips and fancy urns. is it a surprise that someone might try to upsell you in a time of grief? nope. is it nonetheless weird? yup. this isn't the first time i've gone through people's things, but it's the first time i've dealt with it on my own
