In Canso during the summer, there's always something different, & that year it was indoors. Thank goodness because that was the year Mum died, & honestly, facing the outdoors while emotionally breaking down, felt impossible. I kept it together for my friends & the kids because they did not need front-row seats to Troll-Zilla: The Snot Strikes Back. Picture that troll from Harry Potter & the Sorcerer's Stone when he yanks the wand out of his nose & snot goes flying everywhere, but now swap the wand for life’s heartbreak, multiply the tears by a thousand, add snot as a bold face accessory, & imagine zero CGI, zero safety checks, zero professional actors. Just me, raw human chaos, & a nose that could have been declared a natural disaster.
Every sniff was a drum solo of sadness & ridiculousness. Every hiccup was a tiny plot twist in the tragicomic story of my life. Every flop onto the couch was a combination of grief, exhaustion, & slapstick flair. Somehow, I still managed to serve snacks, answer questions, smile like a functioning adult, & hope no one noticed my face looked like a crime scene in a booger factory. The flying snot, the unstoppable tears, the dramatic collapses, they were all very real, very messy, & somehow very funny in retrospect.
& yet, somehow, somewhere, amidst the tears, the snot, & the emotional chaos, life went on, & so did I, a little stickier, a lot messier, & infinitely funnier in hindsight. #2016
Информация по комментариям в разработке