From the vortex of grief: The cost of hope
“Hope” is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul And sings the tune without the words And never stops at all - Emily Dickinson One of the most intimidating things about this year was managing all of my parents' finances and chores along with my work and personal responsibilities. No matter how well I planned, something came up out of the blue at the last minute. My mom would tell me a day or two before the deadline and I would have to somehow accommodate it in my schedule and get it done. The fact that it was always unfamiliar stuff coupled with broken and badly designed websites and apps made it no easier on me. Dealing with this put a lot of pressure on me, and I despised it for taking away that last bit of control I thought I had over my life. Among many such incidents, my mom once called telling me that my dad's chartered accountant license was due for renewal in the next two days and that he wanted it done. As usual, I had other stuff going on, and I