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 Mother Has Terminal Cancer, and I Can’t Seem to Stop Buying Sweaters
I’m stockpiling sweaters because they signify refuge, collecting them like talismans though grief cannot be avoided.
The World Loses Its Former Shape: Caught in the Undertow of Grief
I whisper to my great-grandmother a burden I’d like lifted, one she might take to the next world with her.
Wearing My Grief On My Sleeve
And somewhere in there, as my hands ached from the work, I began to grieve