I would love to write about the death of my grandfather, to get everything off my chest, to take a step toward letting go.

I'd love to write about the horror of watching the strongest man I've ever known wither and die.

I wish I could re-create the sadness in the doctor's face. The melancholy of nurses who told us, "He was my favorite patient."

I wish I could speak in metaphor and simile, try to use imagery to explain the pain of everyone in the room.

But my grandpa was literally pissing away his kidneys.

And I can't be more poignant than that.


  • Luna Kay
  • Wocket

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