Confessions of an Anxious Mortician

welcome to my anxious brain

Rave At Close Of Day… Rage!

Ok, so. It’s the 7th of August 2023. I’m getting ready to turn 45. And by ready, I mean that I am fighting against the dying of the light. I never thought I would make it past 24. So, like… what?? I’m 45.


“Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light…”

Every morning when I look in the mirror, I see more gray hair. I see my father’s eyes, and my mother’s neck. My paternal grandmother’s hips, and my maternal grandmother’s smile lines. My paternal grandfather’s nose, and maternal grandfather’s laugh. I am them. They are me.

“…And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”


They all lived their lives as if every day was their last.

They are all gone from this realm. But not my heart and soul.

I’m still learning from them.

(Thank you,

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