Skateboarding Gave Me a Way to Express My Grief
Yes, this system is imperfect. It took years—and the privilege of professional help—before I’d learn to articulate my grief in words.
I bet grandpa’s columbarium would grind so good
Cole Nowicki is a writer and generally well-mannered person based in Vancouver, BC. His work has appeared in The Walrus, Maisonneuve, McSweeney’s, Peach Mag, and more. He also produces the interdisciplinary event 'fine.' and publishes its print extension 'fine. press'.
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More in this series
My Father Lives in Me: On the Lion King, Grief, and Resemblance
“My father, was alive, in me—in my reflection, in my voice, in my posture.”
Three Generations of Elizabeths, Breast Cancer, and Self-Preservation
When your maternal grandmother dies from breast cancer, there’s this strange intersection between her health and your mother’s health and yours.
We’re the Last Good Girls Alive
Who will remember a girl’s pain when the evidence disappears?