Member-only story
It’s Been Almost a Year Since My Father Died — and This Is What I’ve Learned About Death
In a time filled with endings, letting go is all we can do
I had the strangest thought the other day. The voice in my head, the one that sounds like my actual voice, said, “When I die, I don’t want to lose this.”
By “this,” I knew that voice didn’t mean my life, my experiences, or my relationships with the people I love, even though the thought of death separating me from those things grieves me, as I imagine is the case for most of us.
What that inner voice was telling me it didn’t want to lose was myself — my relationship with myself, my curiosity about who I am, my explorations of this being called Y.
I was suddenly overcome with love — all of it for myself. Overcome with gratitude for how lucky I was to be born into this body with this particular soul. Overcome with happiness for the journey I have taken with myself.
A few months ago, I’d had a similar experience when I was reminded that someday, I would have to leave this body behind. This body that I spent so many years hating and torturing, trying to make it thinner. This body that has endured so much physical trauma. This body that has taken me to Paris and carried me across countless wilderness…
