wilt | Sufjan, my grief buddy

Today is the 7 year anniversary of my father’s death.

Our culture calls for us to gather and commemorate the deceased at 40 days, 1 year, and finally at 7 years. I’m going home this weekend to hang with my family and remember him. There’s a lot I appreciate about American life but I’ve come to deeply appreciate how much my culture of origin treats grief. We give it the space I think it deserves.¹

After the hazen, once I was home in Brooklyn, I took comfort in strange things:

Cheetos Puffs,

Trolli Sour Brite Crawlers,

rearranging all my furniture,

going to every doctor imaginable,

Dark, a German mystery show on Netflix (that I can’t bring myself to watch again since),

and Sufjan.

Sufjan knows death.

That’s what I’m listening to tonight. Thanks, man.

And thanks for this, Deneen Fendig:

Sending comfort to anyone in their 7 year window or beyond. I’m not sure it ever gets easier, but our bodies pull us forward, new life delights us, the gifts of the day feel all the more beautiful.

1. (The Irish, too, imo).