Tuesday, November 09, 2021

The Gumdrop Stage of Grief ...

So many of you have shared condolences and support after the death of my beloved brother Bill from COVID-19. I wish I could thank you individually, but until I can please know that I carry your kindness and compassion with me every day. 

The stages of grief evolve without warning. Shock blends into horror, anger shifts into sorrow. We lost Bill in August, and I’ve consciously buried myself in work and caring for my dogs. 

I’m clearly in the gumdrop stage of grief, because I’m slamming back DOTS but the boxful. They remind me of Bill and when he went through a phase of only wanting to eat orange slices candy that lasted for years.


Few weeks ago, I adopted a puppy (I named her Tuesday) and I totally did it so I can have something to nurture … something that is alive and cuddles. I now have three dogs! Four if you count my dog nephew Ed. They've all been wearing me out so I can sleep at night.

In my dreams, my brother ‘is.’ 

Alive. Happy. Excited for Thanksgiving and sometimes foods. 

In my dreams, I’m getting a menu together for our pre-Turkey Day dinner with Bill. We always go to Kentucky for the November holiday, so we used to …

We used to.


Normally, I’d be prepping for that celebration dinner and getting anxious over what to get Bill for Christmas. 

But my brother ‘was.’ 

He no longer ‘is’, except as memories and far too many regrets.

During a recent board meeting, I messaged someone on Zoom and typed “My brother was ...” and just seeing those words took my breath away. 

He didn’t deserve this, catching COVID-19 or the strokes that followed, nor catching the Delta Variant and the devastation it brought so quickly. Bill sure as shit didn’t deserve to live in a community filled with selfish anti-mask assholes who gleefully created an environment that put disabled people like Bill at risk. 

Bill didn’t deserve this, but this is what he got. 

And so, my brother ‘was.’

Hilarious, mischievous, so sweet, sometimes a total asshole, a food hound, the KitKat king, handsome, autistic, aphasic, a Black man.




His memory is a blessing, until we meet again.

Thursday, September 16, 2021

William Edward Merritt, III

My beloved brother, William Edward Merritt, III, died from COVID-19 on August 26, 2021.

"Last year, he contracted COVID and survived. During that time, he had two strokes and also fought on. And then, this year, as he was healing and getting back to a challenging form of normalcy, COVID struck again. This time it was the delta variant, and this time he didn’t make it. He died on August 26, three days after his diagnosis." Read more from this piece by Sylvester Brown for The St. Louis American | The “Unfairness” of COVID-19.

And please read the amazing obituary our sister wrote here.

May he rest in power and peace, until we meet again.

Thursday, July 01, 2021

What Did I Miss?

So much has happened since my last post! It's going to take a spell to catch y'all up, so be patient with me.

I'm taking an extended break from Twitter because my feed has become a place where hope and empowerment go to die (wince), which reminded me why I enjoyed practicing the fine art of bitchitude via blog posts.

The ability to decide when and whether or not to digest drama is like a gift from the goddess, y'all. 

***pauses for a deep breath ... exhales ... sighs in contentment***

Yep, this is the right move at the right time ...

Friday, January 01, 2021


i am running into a new year
and the old years blow back
like a wind
that i catch in my hair
like strong fingers like
all my old promises and
it will be hard to let go
of what i said to myself
about myself
when i was sixteen and
twentysix and thirtysix
even thirtysix but
i am running into a new year
and i beg what i love and
i leave to forgive me

Lucille CliftonGood Woman: Poems and A Memoir 1969-1980

Happy New Year, y'all!

The Gumdrop Stage of Grief ...

So many of you have shared condolences and support after the death of my beloved brother Bill from COVID-19. I wish I could thank you indiv...