Diary #853

My birthday got quieter and smaller after Grace died, and quieter still after Yellowbird’s recent passing. But Chekhov still insisted on getting me a cake and a gift, and he and Jae and I had pizza and watched Bela Lugosi movies, and he stayed in his cottage overnight. Though I understand what he’s going through to some degree, he has it worse because in my case, Grace lived in my house and I could simply avoid dealing with her things; they’re still in her room or on her desk, and I don’t touch anything unless I have to. But in his case, he has to do the difficult work of clearing her house and getting it ready for sale, and regardless of how much friends can help the bulk of the stress will be on him. So for right now I’m going to try to get him to spend as much time at Sunset as possible so he isn’t surrounded constantly by reminders, while also giving him the space to grieve in whatever way feels right to him.

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