Christians celebrated Easter in the month of April, remembering a time when Jesus died and then rose again. To me, it is not coincidental that Easter occurs in the spring, a season in the Midwest associated with rebirth and renewal.
Write about what rebirth and renewal mean to you. Maybe it demonstrates itself in one of the following ways:
A second chance you didn’t see coming
Something (or someone) you once lost that finds its (their) way back to you
The heaviness of waiting—for answers, for healing, for closure
A place that comes alive again
A person you didn’t expect to forgive—or be forgiven by
Planting something and watching it grow
A tradition you create out of grief
The moment you realize you’re healing
Someone rising from ruin—not literally, but in spirit
What it means to be “reborn” emotionally or spiritually
A small resurrection—something broken that becomes beautiful again
Story Starter:
Seven Days, One Secret
After being declared dead for 24 hours, you wake up in the morgue with no memory of what happened—only a strange symbol burned into your palm and a note in your pocket that says, ‘You have one week to finish what you started.’
I believe I had my first avocado toast ever at this restaurant. It is now a chain with 3 locations in my hometown. It is nothing fancy or over the top, but they were certainly the first to introduce me to the concept of a delicious, runny, over-easy egg on top of the toast. Recently they slightly changed their recipe to offer both a smashed avocado as the base and sliced avocado on top. You can never get too much avocado, right? They also treat their consumers to a delicious balsamic glaze, which is a true treat of the sweet glaze and a little balsamic vinegar to the taste buds.
Avocado Toast
GFO • DF • VEO • V
Avocado two ways, chilled cherry tomatoes, roasted garlic, sea salt, balsamic glaze, local micro basil
I can imagine that even reading the title made you cringe a bit, so I congratulate you on even reading the first sentence. I promise that nothing you will read will be gory, will give you nightmares, or will even bring you one step closer to death (although, you technically are closer to death now that you were one minute ago. But it’s okay. I promise. Stick with me here).
Why is the topic of death and dying so terrifying that we don’t even want to talk about it, read about it, or think about it? Believe it or not, fear of death is not a universal fear–as we have been led to believe. It is most specifically and prominently in Western culture that we are afraid of death, and it wasn’t always this way historically.
Caitlin Doughty writes in her book “From Here to Eternity: Traveling the World to Find a Good Death” how funeral practice became a business in the turn of the 20th century. Before then, people held wakes in their living room, literally waiting to see if the supposed dead woke up, because determining death was often unsuccessfully done by feeling for a pulse or looking for someone’s breath on a mirror. According to McGill Office for Science and Society, “premature burial affected many unlucky folks. Up to the mid-19th century, there were stories of people who were mistakenly pronounced dead and buried quickly, just to be discovered with bruised knees, broken fingernails, and scratched-up coffins from trying to escape an unintentionally fatal burial. As these stories spread, taphephobia (the fear of being buried alive) grew, prompting more people to request cremation or beheading before burial, just in case.” https://www.mcgill.ca/oss/article/history-did-you-know/saved-bell#:~:text=%E2%80%9CSaved%20by%20the%20bell%2C%E2%80%9D,brain%20death%20and%20heart%20death.
Death and Burial Become a Business
To address taphephobia, funeral directors decided to turn death and burial into a business, commercializing and corporatizing it. When a loved one was declared dead, that person was immediately removed from the home and grieving family members. They were either cremated and their ashes placed in an urn or embalmed and their body placed in a casket. The family and friends were then allowed to see the loved one for a short period of time before the casket was then brought to a cemetery, and lowered inside a grave vault six feet deep. Once the vault was sealed and the earth was placed back on top, all the family had was a possible gravestone marking the spot.
Funerals have become quick, efficient, clean, expensive ordeals in Western Culture. This often leaves us at a loss (pun intended) for how to grieve. And it is not so in other cultures, as Doughty points out. She knows this because she traveled across the globe to experience other cultures handle the death, burial and remembrance of their loved ones.
I won’t spoil the book, because it is such an eye-opening read. Some of the practices feel awkward, cringy, even disrespectful, but she reminds us not to read these stories as if the way we do it in Western Culture is best. She writes,
“We consider death rituals savage only when they don’t match our own.”
So returning to death, dying and grief. Where does that leave us? I hope primarily it humbles us to realize that along with many other things in this life, the United States/North America does not approach this perfectly. We might not even be on the list of the “Top 5 Ways to Deal with Death” (if ever there were a list).
Normalizing Talk About Death and Dying
I believe an easy start is to simply talk about death and dying. Bring it up at dinner parties, while waiting for the delayed bus to arrive, with the barista at Starbucks. I guarantee you’ll get a few wide eyes and the majority of people will dismiss you. But we have to start talking about it if we want to normalize it. Spoiler alert: we all die. It’s actually one of only two things that unite us all as globe dwellers: our birth and our eventual death. Ironically, far too many of us are willing to talk about our own birth stories, or how we birthed humans ourselves (I was there personally for three of them. Beautiful but messy ordeals). And that’s how we should view death as well; something we’re willing to talk about, to share stories. Maybe about others first, because that feels a bit safer and remembering those who have gone before us is just a cool thing to do (I mean, Mexico and Bolivia actually dedicate one entire day each year to this and declare it a holiday). And maybe, when death and dying start working their way into conversations after we’ve discussed the weather (unpredictable and often disappointing) and politics (even more unpredictable and disappointing) and if we think the Lions maybe, just maybe could actually win a playoff game this year (don’t get me started) then perhaps we could begin to normalize this a bit, make it a little less terrifying.
I want a green burial; I want to be composted. And I want Jane Kenyon’s “Let Evening Come” read at my memorial service. I want my pallbearers to wear running shoes, both because I have bad feet and need to wear sneakers all the time and because I loved running when I was alive. I do NOT want ham on buns served after my memorial service; as a vegetarian, I would roll over in my compostable grave. Instead, I’m stealing an idea from Natasha Meyer Turner, a friend of mine who lost her battle to cancer after almost a decade, but was celebrated by friends and family with a dessert bar. I too want cakes, cupcakes, pies, desserts, possibly even a chocolate fountain (if my germaphobe husband is not alive at the time) as you celebrate my life. I stand with Marie Antoinette in declaring “let them eat cake.” Over my dead body.
It is said that our perception of death impacts how we live life. So let us not fear death but live life to the fullest. And while we’re doing that, “let’s talk about [death], baby.” (Possible slight change to song title to better fit the topic of this blog).
What are your thoughts?
When it comes to death, dying, and grief—where do you stand? Are you open to talking about it, or does the topic scare you to death? (pun intended). Post on either my Instagram or Facebook accounts and keep the conversation going.
My journey as a pre-published author has been a wild one. Every time I connect with someone in the writing, editing, or publishing industry, they are kind and supportive. However, lately, every conversation about my novel seems to end with a big “But…” or “Before you publish, you should…”
It reminds me of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie—that comical picture book where one simple task spirals into an endless chain of unexpected chain of events and activities, ultimately complicating this simple task and almost rendering it impossible.
That’s exactly how my life has felt lately. Each new suggestion or requirement pulls me further off my original path, making publication feel both thrilling and exhausting (much more on this in a later post).
One request, however, felt doable: creating a “pre-publication piece.”
What is a Pre-Publication Piece?
Essentially, it’s a way to build excitement before my book’s official release—a teaser to generate interest and maybe attract a few new readers. Many authors write a novella or a prequel, but I didn’t feel there was a story worth telling before Chapter One of my novel. So, I took a different approach.
A Funeral Home Short Story Collection
When I talk about my book, people are most intrigued by the father’s role as a funeral director. That curiosity sparked an idea: instead of a novella, why not a collection of short stories centered around a funeral home?
For three days in early March, I locked myself away at Michigan State University (yes, even though I bleed maize and blue for the University of Michigan, their instate rival). I told my husband my goal was to write 10,000 words in those 72 hours. But with no distractions—just me and my laptop—I surprised myself by writing 25,000 words.
By the time I left East Lansing, I had a complete first draft of my short story collection.
Perhaps I’ll pre-release one of the stories in a future newsletter or on my website. But for now, here’s a sneak peek at the titles:
I had been eating scrambled eggs with sliced avocado during the portion of my vacation in Washington DC. But after arriving in New York City, I was craving an actual breakfast of avocado toast.
My husband and I had committed on this trip to walk to local coffee shops each morning for our coffee. We thought we might be adventurous and try out each shop’s speciality coffee, but it turns out we both kept order our same favorite breakfast beverage: Americano. He orders regular, black, and mine is decaf with a splash of half-and-half.
Lonely planet had recommended Little Collins as one of its favorite NYC coffee shops. Since it was only a few blocks from our hotel, we decided to venture there on our first morning in the Big Apple.
The place was packed, which I took as a good sign. I had only planned on ordering my Americano, when I saw it on the menu and couldn’t resist: The Smash.
Turns out it pairs well with a Pan au Chocolate. I enjoyed the feta, a taste from home, an appreciated the slight spice from the pepitas and the chili flakes. While I’m not someone who needs to burn their mouth first thing in the morning, a little spice is a nice wake-up call to my taste buds.
Little Collins: “The Smash”
Avocado & feta mash on thick cut multigrain toast, topped with chili flakes, mint, & pepitas
