Well, it’s been a real pisser of a month.
I’ve gotten several new subscribers recently (hi! I’m so glad you’re here), so I wanted to check in and give you some background. I recently had my second child, and have been curious, open minded, and even a bit nervous about the shape this newsletter would take. Would I change the cadence? Experiment with new material?
If you follow any of the tips for writers on Substack, they advise predictability: post consistently on the same day, each week (several times a week if you’re serious!), with the content your readers have come to expect. In the past, I have stuck to this advice. I may be a rebel at heart, but I’m a rule-following writer. That said, I want to honor my writing practice while also being honest with myself as I transition, yet again, into a new identity with fresh ideas and an even busier schedule.
So my son was born. Then a few weeks later, very unexpectedly, my mom died. It’s every bit as shattering as it sounds.
This newsletter is dedicated to sharing first-person narratives. I write about my life and the people in it, musings and learnings. It’s just what I’ve always done. While you can expect a variety of topics, I adhere to one constant: I will always tell you the truth. (Always done that, too.) I write to connect with you, to hopefully amuse you, comfort you, and try and make us all feel a little less lonely. Which means—if you’re serious about sticking around for the ride—that I have to talk about my life right now.
I promise not to trauma dump on you. (Though I welcome your recommendations for a good therapist!) But I want you to know, while I don’t always write about motherhood and death and grief, I can’t not share that part of myself with you here. I promise I’ll also share newsletters of the lighter variety. Because when I’m sick of crying, sometimes I just want to talk about skincare and jeans.
Naturally, I’m thinking a lot about life and love and why we’re here and what it’s all for and how to make the most of it. I hope, in the future, I have something more enlightening to say. For today, I want to share something one of my closest friends shared with me. It’s one of the few things making me feel both seen and comforted in these very early stages of grieving.
The Thing Is
By Ellen Bassto love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you down like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
It’s impossible to read this newsletter without reading about my mother, her influence on me as a mother, and the culinary habits she did or didn’t pass on to me. I hope that by being here and getting to know me you’ll, by proxy, get to know her, too. She was the brightest of lights.
Thanks for coming on this wild journey with me.
xx
Katie-Deenie, what a perfect way to describe your mother, the brightest of lights. Yes, yes, she was the brightest of lights. And, taught you well. You may not see it yet but you will teaching your 2 as they grow up. One thing about Debbie….when we were neighbors on Westbury Square, you and your Mom would come over to visit and you would go straight to my refrigerator, open the door and help yourself to the chocolate candy kisses I always kept there. I loved it but Debbie would be so embarrassed. Then insisted on you and Neal-Woody calling me Mrs. Peebles. I just wanted to be Ms Cheyrle and I wanted you to feel comfortable enough in my home to help yourself to the chocolate candy kisses in the refrigerator. But, I abided by her rules that she taught you and Neal-Woody. I never told her how much she taught me. Love, Ms Cheyrle
Have loved your Mama my whole life—lovin’ you now through your writing which I think is brilliant. xxoojill