Latest / How We Navigate Grief with Blair
In Bali, the Dead Still Get a Say
It was April, and we were in a market in Bali, buying vegetables for a cooking class we hadn’t especially come for.
That’s how grief trips work, I’ve learned. You book the itinerary as a container. You put the temple and the rice terrace and the cooking class in the calendar because grief has no shape and you need something to hold it in. Then you show up and stand in front of a pile of long beans in the humidity, and something entirely off-schedule cracks you open.
Ours cracked open next to a stall of what I thought were fans.
They were beautiful: gold-edged, stiff, arranged in fanned rows…
The skinny
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