This Week in Grief and Media: 8/19/24
being busy, signs, mourning doves, hating on Jeremiah Fisher
I’m in a beautiful season of life where I feel incredibly inspired. The birds are chirping, the sunsets are glorious, I want a microphone in front of my face right now, etc. That’s what inspiration means to me, at least.
I’ve been saying how much I thrive when I’ve got a lot going on—and I need to buckle up, because this is my last week of summer before I start grad school. There’s a distinct moment in my life that I think about semi-frequently: We were on air on my undergrad college radio station, talking about what we would do or change if we found out we were going to die in a year. At the time, I was going to school, working at the local public media station, doing radio, involved with the school newspaper, living with my mom and hanging out with her every weekend, had my anonymous dating blog, really and ultimately doing the most. Everyone else said they would quit their job or drop out of school, travel, stuff like that. I earnestly and truthfully said I wouldn’t change a thing. I still stand by that.
I’m giving myself grace for having a ~weird~ past few months, because I do not do well with unemployment and lack of routine and being unsure where to dedicate my time. With life about to get even busier yet in a groove, I’d like to think I’m about to shine. I’ll, of course, keep you updated.
By the way, and I hate to say it, but do you all feel like there are too many Leos? I think I’m allowed to say this as a Leo rising. There have been far too many birthdays in the past month, and not enough of them have been mine.
When someone else grieving a loved one brings up signs they’ve received from said loved one, I’m locked in, listening. There’s nothing I love more, and I believe every word of it. When it comes to signs I think I receive, I don’t know why it’s so much harder to find it all real.
After my Aunty Etta died when I was in sixth grade, we started seeing a single mourning dove by our pool. My parents would point it out and say it was her. When my aunt Beverly died three years later, we started seeing two mourning doves hanging out. And two years after that, my Aunty Patty passed away, and there were three. I believed this to be them, because why wouldn’t I, I guess, but the stakes didn’t feel as high—they weren’t visiting me, I figured, but more my parents or our family as a whole.
Is there some sort of currency or time limit per day in the afterlife? How many people can one even visit in a day? I’m fairly certain my mom would only want to send signs to me and my sister, and no one else. I don’t blame her—if I’m in the afterlife and texting is as hard as it is now, I’m probably only sending messages to husband of GRIEF AND MEDIA PROJECT and my sister, unless there’s some sort of newsletter feature. But because of this, it feels like added pressure; that my mom is only communicating with two people on Earth and at least one of them (me) has no idea what’s going on. How do I know what’s a sign? Could some things just be coincidences? Or, even more likely than that, could they just be the result of me thinking about my parents all the time anyway? I don’t even know what means more to me: a sign I can’t determine is real or not, or knowing that so much reminds me of them because of how important they are to my life and everything I am.
My mom’s car was a blue Prius C, which I’ve previously written about, and I see other blue Prius Cs at minimum a couple times a week. When I went in for my coffee shop interview, I sat in a chair that I normally wouldn’t sit in while I waited—it was near the door and facing one of the windows. Right when it was about to be my turn to interview, a blue Prius C stopped at the stop sign right in front of the window I was directly facing. I think that could be a sign. I think.
Sometimes a bird will land on our balcony railing and hang out for minutes on end. When we’re all home, husband and mascot of GRIEF AND MEDIA PROJECT and I will all stare at the bird from our window, and the bird will stare back at us. I don’t know if that’s a sign—it could be. But it makes me think of my parents regardless.
I’ve been on-the-ground rewatching The Summer I Turned Pretty, which I will be writing about in its own deep dive, and it may possibly honestly be the greatest show to ever exist. I’ve been watching it with such excitement that I haven’t felt from a scripted show since my first watch of Gilmore Girls.
More to come here on TSITP, but I have to mention, I was particularly disturbed with a certain scene in season two. Belly and Jeremiah had just arrived to the Cousins’ house where they found Conrad. It’s nighttime, and Jeremiah is trying to make his bed and fails to properly put on the fitted sheet, when he and Belly commiserate about how Susannah used to always have the house ready for them. Yes, grief, I totally get it. But grief does not take away your ability to understand how to physically put on a fitted sheet. Folding them is another story, but just putting them on the mattress? It’s honestly the easiest step of making a bed! Mind you, Jeremiah has a trust fund. People like him are unfortunately the future leaders of America.
Other than having Jeremiah Fisher on my mind (derogatory), I’m gearing up for the Love Island USA reunion tonight, and Sabrina Carpenter’s new album on Friday. Related, I find it my civic duty to share the following:
I’m not sharing this because I am sold on Deuxmoi’s credibility, but more so because I do find this information relevant to my day to day.
ICYMI, I dropped my podcast episode with the wonderful Tommy O’Neil—Senior Product Manager at The Dinner Party, licensed social worker and therapist. We talk all about navigating grief and masculinity, as well as loss of a parent at a young age, The Dinner Party and more. Listen anywhere you get your podcasts by searching “GRIEF AND MEDIA,” or on Substack or Spotify or Apple.
The podcast’s season finale is coming Thursday, and you’ll loveee this episode. Stay tuned!
Also as an FYI, the GRIEF AND MEDIA podcast will be taking a break—with grad school on the horizon, I want to focus the grief content (because it can be a lot emotionally) in my writing. Though as previously mentioned, I want a mic in my face at all times, so I have another audio project up my sleeve. More to come :P
Big Hero 6
That’s it for This Week in Grief and Media. Please consider sharing the GRIEF AND MEDIA PROJECT with a friend. It would mean the world! <3
Don’t forget to join the conversation in the comments! How was your week in grief? What media are you consuming this week? Are you in an entertaining Facebook group a la BAGGU Enthusiasts? Tell me all about it.