Kelsey was unapologetically generous. She was kind, attentive, astute, radical, and caring. I had never met a person whose heart was so full of generosity and joy. As many of her friends put it, she was their/our sunshine.
She also died too soon, in early 2020.
At the time. I was deep in the middle of my dissertation. I had finally finished the “analysis” component of my work and had started to go “full force” into the writing portion. I was still in the midst of applying for tenure-track (“TT”) jobs (basically, these are the “ideal” jobs for graduate students—I’m sure I’ll write something about the tenure process in the future). At the time, I thought my Ph.Depression was in full-force (little did I know that I would be negotiating my job in the middle of the fucking pandemic), and I wouldn’t be able to take time away for her funeral. This is and will likely remain as one of the biggest regrets of my life.
In thinking about “my future,” and what that means in terms of my personal (family/social) and professional life, I realize now that there is a critical person who will never be there, for my wedding or for any celebrations thereafter. It’s made me more anxious to visit upstate New York for sure.
Part of the reason why it took me so long to grieve (aside from shock, etc.) is, frankly, work. My brain is trained and ingrained to be a tried and true “modern” academic: someone who is capable of doing research, maintaining some semblance of a social life, and “keeping it together” as the publication and work expectations for a graduate student increase at an alarming rate. But in this process, I probably (read: likely) lost some of my humanity along the way. I don’t know if I’ll ever get all of it back, but the “summer pause” I have been in has allowed my brain to catch up with my body and I’m now realizing that my fatigue and bloatedness is due, in part, to the emotions/experiences/lifeworld that I’ve been bottling up over the past 2-3 years.
When I was around Kelsey, I hardly ever felt that sort of fatigue. She made you feel airy, excited, and joyful. She has a unique ability to take you out of a rut and inject a small ray of sunshine into your day. And the world is a sadder, more miserable place without her.
In an episode of WandaVision, there is this beautiful quote, “But what is grief, but love persevering?” When I heard it, Kelsey was the first person who came to mind. Partly because of my love for her persevering, but moreso because her love was that powerful. For the people she loved, Kelsey loved them passionately, unconditionally, and purely. That is the part of my heart that I’ll never get back: not my love for her, but her love for me (and for the people closest to her, and for her love of people and the world).
Even in her death, Kelsey has a remarkable way of bringing things to life. So Kel-c, thank you for encouraging me to start this blog and to think honestly and passionately about live, love, and kindness.