Maggie reflects on grief & books

My father dying was the worst thing to happen to me in 2021, and it was a very high bar. My place of work, that I had overdedicated myself to and wrapped myself in so deeply, tried to fire me as I was on family medical leave taking care of my dad during his last months.

So I got a new job, and I quit. I could no longer give so much of myself to an organization that would retaliate against me for continually trying to make it a more just and equitable place. I could certainly no longer work for an organization that would do so as they knew I was taking care of my dying father.

But starting a new job meant that I had to immediately go back to work. I jumped from one overtaxing job to another, and then another. Trying to find one I could bare, one that didn’t take too much, one that I would still love.

I didn’t give myself time to grieve. 

Which, according to my mom, is good. She would always tell me she did “good today,” when she stayed busy enough not to cry in the days, and weeks, and months after my father died.

When I read Be Not Afraid of Love, it opened my eyes to so many things. I learned so much from the author’s explanation of her experiences with intimate partner violence. But what it best illuminated in my own life was how fucked it was that I didn’t give myself space to grieve.

When Mimi Zhu talked about her experience with needing to grieve her relationship, she went on to talk about the Buddhist ceremonies she practiced when her grandmother died. The rituals she described were emotional and allowed her loved ones to grieve collectively.

Zhu talked about how it is capitalism that forces us to push grief aside, because under capitalism we must always put our productivity above all else.

Now I try as much as I can when I think of my father and I miss him, to let myself really feel it. I don’t always cry, but often find my cheeks wet during the practice.

So, as you are perhaps grieving a loss in your life, know that’s exactly what you SHOULD be doing. It may feel wrong, or awkward, disruptive, or selfish, you may have alway been trained not to let grief slow you down. But it is the most human way to respond to loss. It is the most loving way to honor your loss.

Give yourself time (even if it’s 5 or ten minutes at a time) to fully feel what you have lost. It sucks, and it hurts, but the only way out of grief is through. Give yourself the time you need to make that journey. No need to apologize, no need to rush it. Just take it. You need it.

Maggie and David Block throughout the years

I made this melancholy playlist. You can listen to it, and use it as a lubricant to let yourself feel sad.

Here’s a youtube video playlist:

Here’s a list of the songs:

The Pull, by Now Now

Maps, by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Cold Little Heart, by Michael Kiwanuka

Quiet, by Rachel Yamagata

Destroyer, by Lala Lala

Melody X, by Bonaparte

Siren 042, by Lala Lala & WHY?

Someday, by Julia Jacklin

Teeth, by Mallrat

Seventeen, by Sharon Van Etten

Funeral Singers, by Sylvan Esso & Collection Of Colonies Of Bees

Little Cup, Thao & Mirah 

I Know The End, by Phoebe Bridget’s

Sone to This Siren, by This Mortal Coil

To Build A Home, by The Cinematic Orchestra & Patrick Watson

Hunger, by Florence + The Machine

Symphony No. 7, by Beethoven, Wiener Philharmoniker, & Carlos Kleiber

Sea of Love, by Cat Power

Queen of Peace, by Florence + The Machine

River, by Leon Bridges

17, by Youth Lagoon

Suspirium, by Thom Yorke

Milk, by Garbage

Thread, by Now, Now