A Sweet Yet Bitter Draught
February is already coming to a close but the Christmas lights still hang from our roof.
January 2022 was a horrid month. After years of avoiding it, we finally got COVID (and while Lauren was pregnant!), had three separate trips to urgent care—one because I sliced a small bit of my finger off while prepping dinner one night1—and generally had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad month of it. So two weeks into this year I had the thought that 2023 was off to a much better start than 2022.
Then my youngest brother died.
There have been bad days and slightly less bad days since Joey’s death. The bad days feel like hell, the better days just like purgatory. In the fog of grief, days have alternated between feeling interminable and passing in the blink of an eye.
This side of eternity, love and loss swirl together in a sweet yet bitter draught. Some days we taste more of the sweetness, others more the gall. This month’s brew is the bitterest I have yet tasted.
I wasn’t sure what to expect from grief. This is the largest and closest loss that I have suffered in my life so far. In addition to other thoughts I’ve shared on grief, I’ve come to realize that grief is exhausting. Grief is draining and makes even the most basic of tasks feel like a major undertaking. As a friend put it, “grief makes you feel like your shoes are made of concrete.” It’s all you can do to simply accomplish the bare minimum each day—especially when you add raising two young children to the equation—and I’ve had to drop everything but the barest of essentials for a time as we’ve navigated these uncharted waters.
We’ve been buffeted by the grief for my brother, trauma from his untimely loss, exhaustion from travel for the memorial, multiple rounds of illness, lack of sleep, and more as we’ve wandered through the fog of these past five weeks.
We know things will slowly improve, a fact I’m constantly reminded of by the Daniel Tiger song that’s been stuck in my head for weeks2:
It’s okay to feel sad sometimes. Little by little you’ll feel better again.
But right now it’s all I can to do keep moving each day.
And so the lights still hang, a reminder of the end of last year and the first few weeks of this year that were going so well, of a time before Death took my brother. I’m slowly picking up the things that I’ve been forced to set aside, and so the lights will come down eventually. Soon, even. But though we have eternal hope for him because of his faith in Christ, Joey will still be gone when they do. And that acrid taste will flavor the months and years to come. Sometimes less, sometimes more, but always present in the ebb and flow of grief and love’s bitter and sweet mixture.
Some First-Time Housekeeping
My aim with this newsletter will be to send out a minimum of one update each month containing a short essay (such as above) as well as sections on what’s made me laugh, how the boys are doing, what I’ve been reading, listening to, and watching, etc. Some months I’ll also send out more than that, but you should be able to count on at least one like this one.
Funnies
For obvious reasons, there’s not as much here as I might typically share in future months. But a few things still made me chuckle that I wanted to pass along.

Toddler Corner
Reading
I had grand plans about reading more this year than last year. It’s not that I didn’t read a lot of books last year as much as what the kinds of books I actually read were:

Given the circumstances of this year, that hasn’t panned out like I planned. But here’s what I have been reading.
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight—I reread this on one of the plane rides home I took this past month. Classic story of adventure that meditates on what it means to grow beyond failure and examines the struggle be loyal to the tenets of your faith when they come in conflict with the cultural mores.
The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien—I’ve started reading a letter or two each day. Fascinating insight into Tolkien the man for a Tolkien fan like myself.
A Grief Observed—The first time that I’ve read A Grief Observed. More Lewis’ own personal observations on grief than an academic or popular level treatment of grief, A Grief Observed peels back the curtain on Lewis’ personal experience with grief. Though we all grieve differently, there were many passages that rang true to my own experiences. A hard but good read.
Bitter and Sweet—Lauren and I are going through this devotional by
(whose Substack is well worth checking out and subscribing to) for Lent (appropriate both for Lent but also for our season of life) .Why We Need A Joshua Harris Rule—John and Katelyn Shelton argue convincingly for kissing reading Christian self-help books from authors under age 40 goodbye. If we aren’t going to wait to adopt someone’s advice until they have run their race well and we can evaluate the fruit of their whole life, let’s at least wait until they have some grey hair, a “crown of splendor.”
Listening
I’ve been listening to Hollow Coves for the first time, especially the song Coastline, which one of my brothers found on a playlist Joey made last year.
Watching
Andor3 —we’re slowly making our way through this one and hope to finish in time to start The Mandalorian season 3 this week and season 3 of Ted Lasso a few weeks after that.
Abbott Elementary—so good! A highlight of every week there’s an episode.
The Princess Bride—the ultimate comfort movie (and boy did we need it this week)
Thank you for reading. What are you enjoying, reading, watching, learning, etc?
If you want to know what show or movie someone’s kids are watching, just ask them what song is stuck in their head
Trying to watch anything with two kids two or under is a challenge!
All typos are intentional, actually. Links may be affiliate.
Really good read and thoughts!
Made a substack account just to subscribe and come here to say that Daniel Tiger song slaps. Such a good show. Definitely have read most of your top five books this last week too with Griffin! These are great thoughts my friend, grief is absolutely exhausting, and so tough when you have two littles who aren’t able to give you space and time sufficient to trudge through it. You and Lauren and your boys are in our prayers