grief

Laughing Through the Blood

September 11, 2024September 11, 2024 by RasmeniaNo Comments

I got the shopping cart for Xmas when I was 3 years old. Immediately, I began planning a shopping trip to 7-11. No, not a grocery store. Just as I would later insist as a stoned teenager craving a Super Big Gulp and risky nachos, it had to be the goddamn 7-11.The adults informed me I could not just wander off on a convenience store expedition on my own. This annoyed me. Stupid adults.Opportunity struck when I was left in the care of my Uncle Jay one afternoon. As soon as he turned his back, I grabbed my shopping cart and made a hasty exit. I still remember when he found me. Red-faced, panicked, and angry, my uncle pulled his car along the curb as I merrily strolled down the sidewalk, pushing my cart, with no idea how to get to 7-11 or anywhere else.“Get your ass in this car.”I got my ass in the car.Uncle Jay was 6’4” and...

I Feel So Different

September 26, 2023August 29, 2024 by RasmeniaNo Comments

People crowd the street, most of them women with flecks of silver in their hair and lines on their face etching a map back to who they used to be: young women full of joy and anguish. Weird, creative girls trying to survive the constant pressure of what parents, friends, schools, and institutions said they couldn’t and shouldn’t do. Lonely girls who want to scream and dance and smash convention and patriarchy but feel powerless to do so.The music in the street gets louder and one woman in the crowd, a grandmother in leather and Doc Martens, pounds on her heart with her fist, eyes closed, oblivious to all those around her as she sings along with Sinéad:I'll remember it And Dublin in a rainstorm And sitting in the long grass in summer Keeping warm I'll remember it Every restless night We were so young then We thought that everything We could possibly do was right Then we moved Stolen...

Break Through These Times of Trouble

May 26, 2017June 1, 2017 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

This is a love story. It is not unique. I've lived others like it, and so have you. Like many love stories, this one ends with tears, confusion, and a lot of reminiscing about its beginning. Where it began was 1991, a time in my memory that is strange, dark, and forever distorted by a thick layer of time and smoke. It was an unhappy time, immersed in anger, abuse, and large amounts of cheap booze. My mother and my boyfriend at the time had a weird and wildly inappropriate thing going on together. When I'd catch them in the act, they responded by telling me I was crazy. I felt crazy. This was compounded by the fact that we three lived in the same house. I wanted him to leave. She did not. Every day, I was furious and frustrated. But, one day, just as 1991 was nearly at an end, on a not so very special day in...