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I was looking for good bourbon cocktail recipes on Pinterest, because I’m in a bourbon mood today. So I found a promising one and clicked through. **More after the jump**



The pictures were gorgeous. And then the blogger starts talking about loss and grief. Aaaaand cancer. Ugh. So, that was unexpected. But I can just scroll through it, it probably won’t take very much space. They’re probably shilling for some fundraiser or another. It just keeps going and going and there are photos of a family and those terrible words that I avoid if I can. Terminal, stage 4 pancreatic cancer. More waxing poetic about this dude and his young family and their struggle, and I keep scrolling.


Really, I deal with this shit pretty well. I keep scrolling. And scrolling. And FINALLY, at the VERY BOTTOM of the page, is the drink recipe I clicked on this stupid blog to read.

Cancer talk is not really something you can avoid, and usually I even brush off pancreatic cancer references pretty well. People send me invitations to fundraisers and walks and awareness shit because they know that it killed my father at the ripe young age of 53. They mean well, they really do, but I am not interested. That’s not how I grieve, and that’s not how I remember him.

This blogger surely means well and wants to help a friend, but I don’t want to hear their story. I lived it. At 21, I watched my father slowly/quickly waste away and die from that terrible disease, and I don’t need another goddamned reminder. I choose when to engage with others in this position, and I choose when I have the energy and emotional bandwidth to read the stories and grief of others.

I have been grieving for three straight weeks because I just graduated law school and my dad isn’t here. That doesn’t mean I don’t have empathy, or sympathy, but goddamnit I just wanted a bourbon cocktail.

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