A Wrench in the Gears of the Grief Machine

Death is a busy thing. Or it was, in the before. Usually, when a member of my congregation dies, it triggers an intricate choreography of people swirling around the grieving family getting the things-that-need-doing done. There are funeral arrangements to be made, flowers to be ordered, meals to be cooked. As Mormons, our congregation is run by its members; there’s no pastor or priest who has trained for years and will write the perfect eulogy or coordinate with the funeral home. But as part of our faith, we promise to mourn with those who mourn, and so we each do what we can: hold the hand of the grieving spouse, cobble together a choir for the funeral, dress the body, or make a casserole.

The busyness feels good. The work is virtuous but also distracting. Whipping up a tray of classic Mormon funeral potatoes — a perfect storm of soft carbs and rich dairy fat that fill, comfort, and anesthetize the pain of loss for an entire crowd — keeps my hands busy and my thoughts from drifting to my own mortality. When they inevitably do, I take comfort in knowing that one day someone will be stuffing my family full of comfort in the form of Idaho spuds swimming in sour cream too.

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Happy Friday. Please watch these adorable child sheep-handlers. The Kardashians already have a coronavirus-themed trailer for their new season. Don’t want to do your dirty laundry? No problem — this NYC-based laundry startup will make those piles of clothes go away … possibly forever, though (they keep losing people’s clothes). Anderson Cooper announced the birth of his baby boy with the sweetest message on his show. He signed off, thankful for “new life and new love.”

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