It’s not just paint color
It’s cabinet color
and floor color
and fixture color
and accent color

And it’s not just paint color
It’s finish
and wall texture
and how many coats?
What brand?
Which tier?

Remodeling a house
I quickly discovered
was full of this, too?
Another thing
and another thing
and another

An endless to-do list
of decisions and considerations
Every time you answer one question
it gives birth to ten more
Like a dragon from folklore
who grows two heads
for every one you remove
Another?
And another?!
This, too?
And this, too?

2020 has been its own dragon
Ten heads becoming twenty
and then thirty
and then three hundred
Piling grief on top of loss on top of grief on top of loss
and every time I wonder
This, too?
Can I possibly hold this, too?

I watched my brother’s wedding
slip between their fingers
We blinked and the world changed
Our wedding was a slow burn
a prolonged loss
Many, many, many blinks and suddenly
it, too, was gone
I’m not quite sure
which was more painful

He died
and he died, too
and then she died
and then I was woken up at 4am
with news of another death
We whispered questions dripping heavy with sleep and sorrow
and I thought
This, too?

With every message
and phone call
and email this year has brought
Each carrying their own heaviness
each holding their own pain
I find myself with a new, never ending to-do list
of shock and loss
disappointment and frustration
grief and grief and grief

This, too?
This, too?
I cannot help but think
we aren’t built to carry this much grief

I did not expect marriage
to be a lesson
in sobbing to sleep quietly
so as to not wake your spouse
But I am learning to be grateful
for the nights we fall asleep laughing
rather than wiping away tears

Every night
as we are wavering between sentience and sleep
I try to whisper “I love you”
into the darkness
In hopes it will be the last thing
either of us hear

Every night
as we drift into our own dreams
I think, This, too?
We’ll survive this, too