i've lived in tacoma now for over a year, and i still love it just as much as i do when i first wrote about it last june. i still feel like i may have found my forever home; i feel calm, i've made great friends, convinced friends to move here too, and i am starting to really feel integrated into this new community. i'm learning how to skate, i'm eating good food, i'm writing a novel. i'm running out with the tides, seeing great live music, exploring the outdoors, learning the city’s history. it feels like everything my younger self manifested for me is coming true, and i'm extremely grateful to be here.

life circumstances have kept me humble, though. i lost a best friend in august, and my stepmother on march 4. though they aren't the first people close to me to have passed, they certainly are the closest, and i can't begin to describe the grief other than to repeat what my friend brent said: nothing can prepare you for it. when subrina passed i buckled over in my gut and couldn't function for days. i was on the phone almost nonstop with friends, talking about our memories or scrolling through old photos, crying or cooking our sad meals together at a distance. even though at that point i started to make friends here i felt extremely alone, separated from everyone who cared about her and knew her. i felt abandoned by someone i thought i could trust and the loneliness was debilitating at times.

subrina was a great example of what it means to be a loyal friend. they always showed up to events i put on and were solid about showing up for others too. she was never shy about posting about the cool stuff people were up to or fundraisers people had going on. we went to so many events together, concerts, art shows, friend's houses, protests and rallies, and we had endless conversations about our dreams and accomplishments, our frustrations with politics, relationships, work, society. she always had cool music and shows to share, stimulated my brain, and was fun to hang out with. if subrina was around i felt instantly comfortable in whatever crowd i was in. i never saw her in portland after i moved here and i regret not reaching out to her sooner. people say that you can't dwell on that kind of thing, but i always will. i will never forget how i could have reached out, wanted to reach out, thought about reaching out, but didn't in time.

my therapist recommended i do things that would make her happy to see as a strategy for coping. her death has prompted me to be better at showing up for people, to take more photos with my friends and loved ones, not to be afraid of being assertive, to keep exercising my creative capabilities. she also had great style, and i won't lie i think more about the way i dress after their passing, too. there's something about feeling good about the way you look and how that radiates around the environment you're in, even if it's just at the grocery store or while you're getting your oil changed.

kym passed away after a brief battle with cancer, only one day after going home to hospice. the beginning of our relationship was rough, but over time her and i became close in a way that i appreciated more than i ever let her know. we disagreed about a lot and were brought up in very different ways, so i was resistant to her love at first. but she loved me unconditionally in spite of that. she was a mother to me, she always introduced me as her daughter, and she raised me for over half of my life.

i remember a conversation we had where i expressed how grateful i was for the ways that she supported me, and how our relationship had evolved. she said she had a moment when she realized that she could either be frustrated by the choices i made that she disagreed with and try to get me to change, or she could love me no matter what in order to have a close relationship. i'm not even christian but i feel like she is one of the best examples of what christ-like love looks like. though i know she was still frustrated with me at times, she never made me feel guilty or ashamed or any less loved by her. she was so thoughtful about giving gifts, about bringing people together to share good food, and about learning new things all the time. she had a genuine curiosity to learn more about what made people tick and wanted to share joy with everyone around her.

i remember when my friend kamryn's mom died and she talked about how soothing it was to have all these fresh flowers around. kym loved fresh flowers, too. smelling them, looking at them, changing out the water, and drying what you can is a ritual that i've come to appreciate more over time. i remember getting flowers with her in japan at the market, going to the peony festival in san francisco, and it was commonplace for her to have a fresh bouquet when hosting a dinner or gathering. when kym visited me here last summer we spent a long time at the rose garden at point defiance, sniffing and touching and breathing in the beauty around us. it's a memory i will always hold dear. we had so many lovely bouquets delivered to us after she passed, to my dad's and even to my apartment here, and i know kym would have adored all of them.

the outpouring of love after her death brings me to tears. i've met and become reacquainted with many of her friends and family, and the notes on her obituary and through social media make me admire her even more. i am grateful i got to see her in the hospital before she passed and tell her how much i loved her, give her a big hug, hold her hand, and to see her at peace before being buried next to my grandpa. in the hospital she said she's not going anywhere and she was right. i carry her in my heart, in my memories, and i am going to do things that would make her happy to see: cook more, connect with others, prioritize leisure, learn more, and never give up on my dreams.

losing a loved one alters you, it changes your entire makeup. i fluctuate between feelings of sensitivity, softness, anger, and empathy for people who have also lost someone close to them. i feel joy looking at old photos and then sorrow at knowing i won't get a return call or response to my text. it's jarring to still have everyday occurrences confront you after someone leaves, like filing taxes or changing the sheets on the bed. it feels like the whole world should stop with you but it doesn't. i am grateful to be where i am physically and mentally, but it's difficult. i cry often during moments when i'm alone, like in the car or shower, to keep myself from showing pain and vulnerability around other people. i know people can sense it though, in my puffy eyes or my anxious messages. my relationships with people feel more important than ever, and i want to be close to everyone, yet i want to be left alone at the same time. i want people to understand that contradiction and give me grace for it.

i know other people know this feeling of grief, of the tides that go in and out with it. i am grateful i am not alone in that way but i am mad we can't all die together at the same time. i don't believe in an afterlife or anything, but i do believe that memories act like spirits that can give people strength, and i am trying to exercise that by remembering those who have passed on who believed in me and wanted to see me succeed.