One year while she was on the roof and needing a tool, she said “Mermaid! Mermaid, I need…” whatever the part she needed. I giggled as the nickname came through the walkie talkie.

I met someone new to me this past week. My dear friend introduces us and as she is headed out of the room the new person asks, “are you a hugger?” I automatically said, “yes” and as we are hugging, my dear friend turns around and says, “no, you aren’t.”

I was going through some old photos of Michaela and I. I was remembering memories associated to the photos, but it spun off into more and more memories. Miss her so fucking much - miss us holding hands and snuggling on the couch as we watched Star Wars or Lord of the Rings.

A month before Michaela died, we shaved our heads as Michaela was losing so much hair. It was a big thing for Michaela on her journey as a transgender woman. It was a hard decision, but when clumps were just falling out randomly on her as she went about her day it became too hard for her.

Warning this is a hard post that I feel needs trigger warning, but I am not sure which ones. Talking about end of life. Four years ago yesterday, Michaela and I sat in her oncologists office and were told that the main spot of cancer was shrinking.