If You’re Grieving, There’s Comfort In The Writing Community

As obvious as it should’ve been, I didn’t make this connection.

Martie Sirois
4 min readNov 12, 2022

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Image: Supriya Bhonsle, on Mixkit

I lost my Dad on September 20th. The grief was (and is) heavy. About a month later I wrote this essay, trying to articulate the small comfort that was carrying me at the time: “his soothing, golden radio voice, captured in real time — suspended — and forever preserved in various vintage recordings.” Of course, it wasn’t just the sound of his beautiful voice. It was everything his voice represented to me, some of which I hoped to capture in that essay.

It’s now a few weeks after writing that piece. Hasn’t even been two full months since he passed but it feels like so much longer. Like a void filled of eternities. Why is that?

Other days, time flies ridiculously fast. Like, it’s already bedtime but didn’t I just wake up? And I’ve been able to work and carry on completely as normal, even returning again to that deep well of my favorite medicine: laughter. Like nothing changed. Like nothing happened. Why is that?

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Martie Sirois
Martie Sirois

Written by Martie Sirois

Covering the intersection of culture, politics & equality. Featured in Marker, HuffPost, PopSugar, Scary Mommy; heard on NPR, SiriusXM, LTYM, TIFO podcast, etc.

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