Writing about grief, hope, music, memory and community.
When you lose the people who were there, you lose something specific: the corroboration. The confirmation that it happened, that it was real, that you are not constructing a world out of nothing.
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Welsh has a goodnight that is softer than the English version. Nos da. Good night. It rolls off without much ceremony, the kind of thing you say a hundred times before it means anything, and then one day it means everything.
Perhaps you're reading this in the middle of the night. Perhaps it has been a few days, perhaps a few weeks, since everything changed — and you're sitting with your phone trying to understand what is happening inside you.