The shelves are symmetrical.
The bags are labelled.
The delivery dates are chosen.
Everything can be organised except the thing I am trying hardest not to lose.
Bargaining is a story about the strange ways we prepare when we know preparation is impossible.
Personifying Death not as a frightening specter, but as an uninvited guest you’re trying to bargain with, distract, and out-talk feels so incredibly human. That plea—'I’m over here. Look at me!'—hits you hard, almost like a punch. The dark, tender humor woven throughout—cutting onions to hide tears, funny one-star reviews, the 'allergic reaction to love' in palliative care—keeps the story rooted in reality while highlighting its emotional depth. It captures the surreal duality of watching someone pass while everyday life gently keeps going. Truly inspiring and deeply moving.
Thank you, Jay. That means a great deal to me. I especially appreciate that you saw the role humour played. I find ordinary details often carry the biggest emotions, so it's lovely to know that came through. Thank you for taking the time to read so thoughtfully.
I think that's exactly why the piece stayed with me. The humor never distracted from the grief—it made it feel even more human. Those ordinary moments became the places where the deepest emotions quietly revealed themselves.
To me, that's one of the hardest balances for a writer to achieve, and you handled it beautifully. Thank you for trusting readers with such an honest and compassionate story.
All I can say is - and I have my story - that your writing here makes sense to me. Could have been a part of my day that you described, so thank you for posting this!
Martin, thank you. This means so much. I think that’s the strange alchemy of writing. I put my own little basket of experiences down, and somehow someone else recognises something they’ve been carrying too. I’m honoured that this met you where you are. Thank you for reading and for sharing that you have your own story. I really enjoy reading your work and you help me with your words also. Maybe, this is their gift.
The raw, unfiltered honesty here is breathtaking. Balancing the mundane coping mechanisms of online shopping and organized storage with the heavy, quiet gravity of caregiving and impending grief creates an unforgettable narrative voice.
Personifying Death not as a frightening specter, but as an uninvited guest you’re trying to bargain with, distract, and out-talk feels so incredibly human. That plea—'I’m over here. Look at me!'—hits you hard, almost like a punch. The dark, tender humor woven throughout—cutting onions to hide tears, funny one-star reviews, the 'allergic reaction to love' in palliative care—keeps the story rooted in reality while highlighting its emotional depth. It captures the surreal duality of watching someone pass while everyday life gently keeps going. Truly inspiring and deeply moving.
Thank you, Jay. That means a great deal to me. I especially appreciate that you saw the role humour played. I find ordinary details often carry the biggest emotions, so it's lovely to know that came through. Thank you for taking the time to read so thoughtfully.
You're very welcome, Kath. ❤️
I think that's exactly why the piece stayed with me. The humor never distracted from the grief—it made it feel even more human. Those ordinary moments became the places where the deepest emotions quietly revealed themselves.
To me, that's one of the hardest balances for a writer to achieve, and you handled it beautifully. Thank you for trusting readers with such an honest and compassionate story.
Great line: The pruning of life can be ferocious.
Thank you Joan. That's kind of you to take the time to comment. Good luck with your project. It came up in my feed. I'm sending you good wishes.
WOW! I love how you have written this! Typical brain bouncing off of everything!
But I do wonder now as well, does the Angels go shopping.....
Martin, now there’s a question! 😂 I like to think Angels probably have excellent organisational skills and very sensible baskets.
This piece arrived as a bit of a whirlwind of grief, shopping lists, shelves, noodles, death and dopamine all apparently wanted a seat at the table.
Thank you for reading it with such curiosity. I love that you asked the question rather than trying to answer it. 😊
All I can say is - and I have my story - that your writing here makes sense to me. Could have been a part of my day that you described, so thank you for posting this!
Martin, thank you. This means so much. I think that’s the strange alchemy of writing. I put my own little basket of experiences down, and somehow someone else recognises something they’ve been carrying too. I’m honoured that this met you where you are. Thank you for reading and for sharing that you have your own story. I really enjoy reading your work and you help me with your words also. Maybe, this is their gift.
The raw, unfiltered honesty here is breathtaking. Balancing the mundane coping mechanisms of online shopping and organized storage with the heavy, quiet gravity of caregiving and impending grief creates an unforgettable narrative voice.