What about long-term illnesses? How do you handle that ongoing grieving process?

CHANEL: My short and sweet, kind of fucked up version? I have this fantasy that their illness won’t kill them, until it actually does—and even then I wonder, was it really the cancer? Was it really the heart disease?

DERICA: Chanel, that is so real to me. My father’s brother was sick for a long time. Remission and then not, and then that whole cycle again. I think grief was suspended by the day-to-day of organizing to visit him, cooking for him, and lobbying, constantly, for my uncle’s care while he was alive. That was my first experience of watching someone die, incrementally, painfully. Sometimes it made me woozy to be in the same room with his body as it was bleeding and disintegrating. Nonetheless, what made sense to me was to spend time with my uncle, to try to decipher his words when he managed to form them, to make his room jovial and loving whenever possible. I tried hard not to cry in front of him (I teared up constantly but I don’t think he minded). Mostly, we wanted to make him feel the weight of our love and admiration while he was present, even if he was leaving.

MADS: Partial emotional detachment. I know this sounds unhealthy, but really it’s the only thing getting me through my grandmother’s illness. I think it’s important to also spend time with the person who is going through the illness to support them. Even if my grandmother can’t remember what she did yesterday or a week ago, the feelings she experiences stick with her.

When I was living in Berkeley over the summer, she visited me and we went to a farmers market. I could tell she loved the music coming from a nearby drum circle, so I pulled her into the middle and started dancing with her. Although she can’t really remember that moment, I know that the freeing, positive experience made the rest of the day a little better for her.

How do you grieve someone with whom your relationship was very complicated? For instance, a family member you just did not get along with?

STEPHANIE: I didn’t get along with my paternal grandfather. At all. We had a really bad relationship when I was a teenager and I also blamed him for some of my own father’s behavior. I know that he was mentally ill, and so his behavior wasn’t always his fault—I understand that now better than I did before—but I was still very angry when he died. My family had a memorial and I didn’t go. I had a strained relationship with my dad and my family in general at that time so I know in my heart not attending was the right choice; my presence would have made a hard time harder for everyone. Although I don’t feel guilty, I so still worry a little bit that they will read this and judge me, but I think at least my dad will understand. We talked about it later, when it was easier for both of us and we worked through what we needed to.

I truly think that it’s essential to know your own limits, to know what will make grief worse for you and for others, to step back, work through what you need to work through and then face it. For me at least, although it was messy and hard, it could have been way worse if I had gone to the memorial and gotten into arguments with other family members. I needed to process my feelings first and I learned that really is healthy and OK to put yourself first. It allowed me to get to the place to say to my dad, “I’m sorry your dad died. I know it hurts you.” Now I am in a space where I can be supportive and listen to him.

Grief is an ongoing process. What have you done to heal in the longer term? How do you handle anniversaries and birthdays? Alone or with loved ones? Do you mark these moments with traditions?

SHRIYA: I am big on anniversaries. My paternal grandmother died on February, 4, and every month when the 4th comes around I think of her and try to do something for her—whether it’s dedicating a piece of writing or photo to her, or just going on a walk, or thinking of her while watching TV. My grandpa died on the 7th, and I do the same for him. I try to have a good day every 7th of the month by being positive and doing something we both love. The day my grandpa died, in 2013, I bought last-minute tickets to a concert and went solo and felt all my feelings.

On anniversaries I try to plan a bit more—eat a great meal while reading a book or going to a museum. This past year on my grandpa’s anniversary, I went to a Patti Smith reading and it was the best thing I could’ve done. For more day-to-day healing, I like going to a nearby cathedral and lighting a candle when I’m feeling down. I write a lot. I talk to my friends about it. I find him in little places—in an old professor, in a song that comes in at a grocery store. I got a tattoo in memory of my grandfather and that has been a great way for me to cope. It is a daily reminder that I have him with me.

I also make a lot of art in honor of people I’ve lost, but honestly that can be exhausting. When I did the Rookie photo essay on my grandpa (which I made a year and a half after he passed), I wept the entire time. I thought I was ready to face those feelings but it was difficult. Though it felt very necessary to make it and I don’t regret creating it, it was such a painful process. So, I think it’s OK to want to make something in honor of someone but really struggling with the associated emotions and memories. Either you can push through them or you can wait until you’re ready.