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Goodbye Seems To Be The Hardest Word

Tokyo, Japan

I was trying to write a regular blog post. Tell you about the tourist attractions, and incredible restaurants we visited in Tokyo…but that just isn’t what I have on my mind right now. The images might be of cute outfits in beautiful places, but this blog has always been where I could let all my neuroses and dark twisty thoughts run free, even when it would probably be more appropriate for me to write about the weather. Today will be no exception. My grandfather passed away yesterday. I’ve dealt with grief many a time during my childhood, lost more family members than most, but this one’s been different, harder if that’s even possible to say without disrespecting the ones that left before him. Though he held an incredibly special place in my heart, I think the manner in which he departed makes it harder for me to live with, without having more existential thoughts than I’d like.

You see my grandfather decided he no longer wanted to continue on. Once he learned that his ability to walk was deteriorating and he wouldn’t be able to live autonomously anymore, even if his mind was bright, the kind of life he saw in his future didn’t feel worth living. He was a humble, quiet, solitary man with immense pride and dignity. If anything I think that, those qualities were what defined him as a person and where he drew his happiness and joy. That being said, when we heard he had taken maters in his own hands, I was in incomprehensible shock, and immediately my heart ached for my mother.

Though the attempt wasn’t successful, his mind was still made up. After spending a week in the hospital, his condition having deteriorated, and only learning more bad news regarding his health, he asked for a humane death. A death which would give him the chance to say goodbye, live only as long as he felt his life was worth living, and be surrounded by his children when he finally left the world. Every part of my being that is logical agreed with his decision, but every other little bit was devastated. I kept thinking of his bucket list, where hadn’t he traveled, what hadn’t he seen, wasn’t there something he wanted to do with the time he had left to conclude his journey…but that’s not who my grandpa was. He was firm, at peace with his decision, and the last item on his bucket list was for his loved ones to understand that this was the right choice for him.

Saying goodbye was probably the most heart wrenching thing I’ve ever done. Telling a person they’ll forever live on in your heart…saying I love you for the last time, those words were probably the hardest I’ve ever said out loud. He didn’t speak much, except for when I came close “Ma Belle Alicia…”he said with pride, as if I he believed was the most beautiful being who’d ever lived. That moment will probably make my heart ache for as long as I live. I held him in my arms, kissed his head, kissed his hands, and walked away, so afraid that if I looked back for just a second I’d never be able to say good bye, I’d never be able to let him actually go. Yesterday morning, at 10:10 AM he left this world peacefully, surround by the ones he loved, and who loved him in return.

I’m happy for him. Happy he left the world the same way he lived within it, on his own terms. So why am I so uncontrollably emotional, why do I, without a moment’s warning drench myself in puddles of tears. Perhaps the actual act of saying goodbye is what keeps me crying. Maybe the shock and immediacy of passed losses overwhelmed me to the point that I never truly understood that the person was gone. Goodbye seems to be the hardest word, Elton was right. I didn’t write this piece to make anyone feel sorry for me, or sad or cry even, though I failed terribly at not doing so myself while writing it. I just don’t want to forget this feeling. The tears come, because of the love I had and continue to have for him after his passing. They come because of the bittersweet feeling that swaddles my heart when I remind myself that he is in a better place. They come because as hard as it was, I got to hold him one last time, and the emotions of that moment live on. I hope they don’t fade too quickly. I had the privilege of saying goodbye and I want those feelings to resonate until I’m finally at peace with them, and feel grateful for them as I know I will someday.

This is probably the longest piece I’ve ever written on the blog. Still debating if I should even post it at all. All of these sentences and paragraphs to say that I loved him, and I hope his spirit lives on through these words. That they honour him, the way I intended them to. Je t’aime Grand-Papa.

Gucci Sunnies, Zara suit, Lacoste X Supreme polo, Loewe bag, and Christina Louboutin pumps.

Suburbia

Montreal, Canada

We’ve made it folks. Peter and I are finally residing in our new home, and boy is it pretty. It’s crazy to see how much your quality of life can improve, with just a change of scenery. I mean sure, it may just be the excitement talking, but I wake up every day with the morning light feeling light and fluffy on our little cloud. That being said the work that comes with turning a house into your dream home has been somethin’. Only two days of having the keys in hand we had most of our furniture in place, all of our things put away, and thought the end of our little move was in sight. Then…the OCD kicked in and oh boy did it come in hard. For the last two weeks I have been organizing every inch of the past 8 years of my life so our every possession fulfills its destiny by finding its way to the spot it was always meant to be in. It sounds crazy because it is. I can literally tell you on which shelf, of which cupboard, in which room, anything is…and boy does it feel good.

Peter does a ton around the house, but when it comes to organizing my way, bless his soul, the man can’t handle the heat. I started to organize his boot closet yesterday and after asking him to take over for a minute, I came back to a ton of dirty sneakers mismatched piled up in the back of a shelf. He wanted to make it clear to his future self that those were the yucky used sneakers…I could have died. So I got back to work, and haven’t stoped since. That’s kind of how all of our days have been as of late. Honestly, I can’t complain. I think that if you set aside the fact that I’m going absolutely crazy, I’m kind of enjoying myself. It’s a beautiful day in this neighbourhood, like everyday.

Balenciaga cap, Ray Ban sunnies, Zara shirt and trousers, Christian Dior bag, and Christian Louboutin heels

I Want Candy

Montreal, Quebec

I’m so full…but like actually. I have been living off a strict diet of sour gummy worms and Old Dutch BBQ chips for the past week or so and I’m starting to feel it. Funnily enough my body seems to have adapted quite nicely, and hasn’t been too cruel when my scale and I get to get together to catch up. I think it’s from the years of  training my metabolism I had living off junk food in high school. Seriously though, at the time Twix and Kit Kat bars were a part of a nutritious breakfast. I’m living a sugar renaissance really. I mean health wise I’m sure I’m shaving minutes or hours off my life somehow, but man I’ve been having a great time eating Glosettes in my car, and pairing Doritos as the starch to my protein. I’m starting to wonder…is candy and crap food the secret to happiness?

I feel some type of rebellious, laughing off the potential of a summer body while going through my stash of Cadbury Cream Eggs from Easter, and I’m not going to lie, I feel better than I have in quite some time. As the famous singer songwriter Sheryl Crow once sang…”if it makes you happy it can’t be that ba-a-a-ad”. So I say as long as we haven’t felt the effects of scurvy, and our arteries are still somewhat operational, let’s celebrate the small, simple, and bad things in life that make us happy. Come on girls, let us eat cake!

Vintage bandana, hoop earrings from Claire’s (not even kidding), Fenty X Puma sweatshirt dress, Louis-Vuitton backpack, and Christian Louboutin shoes.

The Lucky Ones

Miami, Florida

Sometimes life is really good. The sun rises on another beautiful day, happiness is omnipresent, you feel strong and powerful, balance is attained, and a perfectly pleasing routine falls into place. Things get done, you feel in control, and you start thinking that maybe you’ve finally realized how everybody else has been doing it all along.

Then suddenly something happens. Something you never saw coming. Something your not sure how to react to, let alone adequately handle. It shakes you. Makes you existentially confused. Makes you wonder if this balance you strived for, for so long, ever meant anything in the first place. You start to question the hierarchy of the important things in your life. Were you doing it right to begin with? Did you really need all this structure to feel like you had got your life together or was the freedom and impulsivity of your previous nature what you should be aiming for.

What kind of life do you want to lead? What kind of life is most fulfilled?  One thing is certain…make it happy. Make it full of love and moments that live on forever. Make it so when you look back the joy overtakes the sorrow in every instance, that the highs are more meaningful then the lows, that the silver linings always take centre stage. Some of us don’t have the privilege of seeing a silver lining. Of not looking back in anger. Of seeing the sun rise on another beautiful day. So lets live it in their honour. As the lucky ones… 

Marc Jacobs sunglasses, Fallon choker, Balmain blazer, WhoWhatWear X Target blouse, One Teaspoon shorts, Louis-Vuitton backpack, and Christian Louboutin sandals.