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My grandma passed away peacefully on Friday afternoon. I held her hand when she stopped breathing. I saw her lift her head and nearly open her eyes, like she was waking up. I saw her take her last breath and leave us.

Death is such a strange thing. We write obituaries but it is impossible to fit a person’s life into a few mechanical paragraphs. An obituary does not tell things like how she was infinitely patient, how proud she was of her grandchildren. It doesn’t tell you that she let a chance for real love pass her by. It doesn’t tell you how painful her relationship with her husband was. It doesn’t tell you that she was gorgeous- like a classic Hollywood movie star- or that when I was a little girl she told me that when I grew up she would put diamonds in my dimples. It doesn’t tell you about her quirky sense of humor, or her love for singing or good food. It doesn’t tell you about her expansive collection of classy hats. It doesn’t tell you about her amazing potato salad, her love of birds and concern for the state of her bird feeder, or the stickers she would always put on the backs of birthday cards. An obituary says nothing of the sound of her laughter or her squeals at the length of my older brother’s hair. It says nothing of the love and patience and hard work she put into caring for and raising my dad and his sisters. Even all these things don’t really tell you who she was, but now you won’t get to know her, because she has gone on ahead of us. At least I got to tell her that I loved her.

Inside Mark Driscoll’s disturbed mind

Truly horrifying.

Just found out that my grandma has Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. Because of her age, and because she has congestive heart failure, they can’t give her any treatments for it. She has between a few days and a few weeks to live. I’m stunned. I can hardly believe it. My lovely, classy, sweet, cheerful grandma. 







Happy Black History YEAR!


loving how my old history teacher talked about them like a terrorist group

boost me up

Wow okay so for those skimming, there’s a memo up there from THE DIRECTOR OF THE FBI that sets a mission to LIE about the good things the Black Panthers were doing, spread rumors of them being terrorists, and terrorize the communities supporting them.

If you think the Black Panthers were terrorists and you’ve never heard of the community-building, it’s because there was a literal government conspiracy to make you and people 45 years ago think that way.

i’m reblogging again (bolding mine), because people need to fucking know this. especially white americans. 

On Myers Briggs


So I was thinking about the typing and functions of Myers Briggs, categorizing people into 1 of 16 types and how the primary, secondary, tertiary, and inferior functions work together within the person. I understand that most of us are not 100% extroverted or introverted, sensing or intuition,…

Yeah, I’m about done with trying to type myself (or anyone else, for the matter) for now. I’ve analyzed the whole thing (and myself) to death, and I’m coming to feel more strongly than before that the MBTI really does not give one a full picture of a person. I have strong feelings, I am affected by the people around me, but I also have firm values, no matter what the people around me think. Sometimes I like science and math. Other times I like hearing about someone’s life and feelings. Sometimes I want to be around people, sometimes I am tired of people. And figuring out my type and my mom’s type will not somehow magically mend all of our differences, though it can help us understand how the other thinks. Maybe I’ll come back to the MBTI after a while. For now, I am all Myers-Briggs-ed out. 

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