Archives

The fifth Mother’s Day without you

Some years, Mother’s Day feels like a speed bump. Others, it is Everest.

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64.

There is a laundry list of important people my mom will never meet. My editor. My new PCP. My live-in boyfriend and love of my life. Our new cat. His family. My new favorite barista. And so on.

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On learning to love when you’ve lost, and how it’s only kind of like riding a bike

I’m scared of a lot of things. See: spiders, vest-less roller-coasters and falling out of cars mid-turn (to name a few). But, for some odd reason, I’ve never been scared of relationships, even when both history and bad television say I should be. I’ve never been afraid to give my all to another person — be […]

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My one New Year’s resolution

I often wonder if death is my shtick. My sweet spot. My comfort zone. My “thing,” if you will.

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Are you there, childhood? It’s me, Meaghan

One of the hardest parts about losing both parents has been losing the memories that went with them. The stories I would ask to hear over and over again at thirteen, but couldn’t care less about come high school because I was a hormonal dick-wad with a Myspace to manage.

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Me and Sarah and the movie about the dying girl

Sometime this summer, I made the conscious and sober — though somewhat hungover — decision to go see “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl” alone.

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The second year without her

“Are you sure you want to put your roommate down as your emergency contact?” “Hell, what if you forget to cook breakfast that morning?” asked an overly aggressive, semi-sexist personal trainer during a free consultation I wish terribly I had slept through instead. “I’m sure,” I said confidently, dodging — if only for a second — a bullet I […]

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On dreams of dead parents, delayed grief and Rihanna

What I gathered (besides the fact that I could probably use some professional therapy) was that, nearly two years later, I’m still grieving my mother’s death (and — though the dreams of my dad are far less frequent — close to seven years later, I’m still grieving his, too).

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Living in apartments with boys

“You had the right idea when you moved in with guys you knew you’d never bang.” Six and a half years ago I buried my father. I had pink hair, a petite frame, and a bone to pick with the world. I listened to a lot of Brand New and Kevin Devine, hoping that one […]

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Christmas sucks without your cigarette breaks

She looked at me like I was fucking orphan Annie. – Me, Thanksgiving Eve, three sips into a Long Island Iced Tea It’s the best of times. It’s the worst of times. The holidays, however joyful, are never easy in the days, weeks, and months following the loss of a loved one. The heavy hitters […]

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