--- title: Good Grief date: 2025-05-20 tags: life tldr: Thanks, I hate it. --- Grief is weird. Getting the call a loved one has passed and attending the funeral are obvious moments of grief and you can expect tears and shock to come from that. What I was not prepared for (who is?) was random pangs of grief that occur when you're just trying to live your life. My wife is a student at a fashion college and recently participated in their fashion show…as did I, as her model[1]! We're both fans of "Fashion Runway" ("Next in Fashion" is a decent show but doesn't quite hit the same) and "Making the Cut" so we couldn't pass up the chance to get involved. It was an exciting experience. Last weekend we attended a fashion show at another college in the area, this time as mere audience members. Another great experience! My grandmother **loved** fashion and accessorizing. Fur coats and gowns were her THING and she carried herself with the grace of knowing that she was THE best dressed person in the room. I'm helping relaunch a beauty company that had to shut down during the pandemic (it's basically Uber for beauty). It only just occurred to me last night that my grandmother would've been excited about what I'm working on because guess what? For many years, she ran a barbershop/beauty salon. As a kid, she made sure that my haircuts were clean af ("Ooh my grandson so HANDsome"). I'm happy when I remember these moments but then I remember I can't tell her about new moments. I can't share pictures and videos with her. She would've loved to see me strut down the runway. She would've loved to be involved in the marketing for this beauty company (she'd probably insist, actually). I can't hear her words of excitement, encouragement, motivation, nothing. And that's when the hurt and the tears come. I have a small vial of her ashes in a necklace and I wear it when I feel that my outfit is sick (she was with me on that runway) so it's a small consolation. I'll never experience her hugs[2] again and that fucks me up. Her birthday is in 10 days so I gotta remember to have a Klondike bar (her favorite). I wish grief was like a papercut; feel the sting, cry if you need to, apply a Band‑Aid over it, keep it moving. Forgettable. I guess the point of grief is that you DO remember everything you cherished about a person. It's been five months since she passed. I'm so thankful we reconnected in a big way the year prior. At least I don't have regrets? Claretha Johnson enriched my life in ways I'm sure I don't even see yet. 🕸️ P.S. Apologies for the Instagram links, haven't setup a self‑hosted photo solution yet. --- [1]: https://www.instagram.com/netopwibby/p/DIxPYw1zGlX/ [2]: https://www.instagram.com/netopwibby/p/DD0YMOhygFS/