death
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Hold On to What You’ve Got
It feels like we created each other from scratch, scribbling in the details and watching ourselves take shape.
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Improvising a Bone Graft
Very gradually, this frantic activity ceased to be simply an expression of emotional distress—what the grief experts call “searching behaviour”—and started evolving into a digital, extended elegiac project.
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RECORDS OF YOU
He didn’t own a record player because he didn’t need to hear anything. He wanted only to maintain what the vinyl represented: ties to his childhood, ties to New York.
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The Rumpus Interview with Elizabeth Scarboro and Lidia Yuknavitch
Both Yuknavitch and Scarboro, whose books echo each other in interesting ways, were willing to talk with me about this question of what to do with memoir, and much more.
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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Getting Made (in honor of Ronan Louis and Emily Rapp)
The Rumpus joins yoga teacher Jennifer Pastiloff in remembering Emily Rapp’s son, Ronan Louis, whose brief, remarkable life ended in the early morning hours on February 15.
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Interstitial Days
A glance, an explosive connection, or a kiss that brings on a divorce. Decisions to stay or go. A diagnosis dictating a body’s abrupt end, slow decline, or unexpected recovery.
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“The Cold Hard Facts of Freezing to Death”
If this holiday season has filled you with a few too many warm fuzzy feelings, you can banish them instantly with this longform piece about freezing to death. Putting the bulk of the article in second person makes it especially…
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Dirty or Clean?
I felt like an arrow of sheer desire, flying through the air in a small town and emblazoned with this unfortunate tag line: “Newly single mother of a dying baby.”
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Walk With Me
At the edges of the Earth was Lintukoto, the home of the water birds who brought souls to newly born humans and snatched them away at the moment of death. In ancient Finnish mythology those yellow and black-billed whoopers transported…
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Consider the Bird
I remember the night he told me about the white bird there was a Styrofoam cup with a bendable straw and water in one hand, and a Bayer pill in a medicine cup.
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“Infinite Ache”
At Ebony, Saeed Jones reflects on the vastness of grief as the one-year anniversary of his mother’s death approaches. “Now, though I sometimes cry, I more often feel a sense of awe at the depth of my connection to my…
