Tre Miller Rodriguez's Blog, page 79

How to Work When You’re #NSFW

The one perk to losing my 40-year-old husband during the Great Recession was that my PR firm had no qualms about granting me an unpaid leave of absence. Clients had been departing en masse since the financial crash, and when my own world crashed with Alberto’s sudden heart attack on March 15, 2009, my return date was thankfully not a priority.

Even after an unprecedented, four-month bereavement leave, I still felt NSFW. But my depleted bank account — and a rush of new clients — demanded otherwise. I had a sense of how awkward the transition would be: My only sibling died in a car crash when I was 19, and several office colleagues had pulled me aside back then to share stories of their pets being hit by cars.

Read more →

Pink wigs & clusters of foreigners are my kryptonite. (at 60...

Pink wigs & clusters of foreigners are my kryptonite. (at 60 Thompson Hotel)

Pink wigs & foreigners are my kryptonite.

Pink wigs & foreigners are my kryptonite.

Heart-Shaped Crosswalk Stain (at West Village, Downtown...

Heart-Shaped Crosswalk Stain (at West Village, Downtown Manhattan)

Heart-Shaped Crosswalk Stain (West Village, NYC)

Heart-Shaped Crosswalk Stain (West Village, NYC)

Screening the #HBO documentary, “The (Dead Mothers)...

Screening the #HBO documentary, “The (Dead Mothers) Club,” at tonight’s @ModernLoss event = raising glasses with kindred spirits who refuse to accept the idea of life spent in mourning. Or life spent ignoring white elephants. #brava #CarlyeRubin (at The Norwood Club, New York)

Screening the HBO documentary, “The (Dead Mothers) Club,” at...

Screening the HBO documentary, “The (Dead Mothers) Club,” at tonight’s Modern Loss event = raising glasses with kindred spirits who refuse to accept the idea of life spent in mourning. Or life spent ignoring white elephants.

The art lies in holding on to our positive memories and...

The art lies in holding on to our positive memories and mementos; letting go of regrets, if-onlies and tangible reminders that sadden or sicken us.

I find myself re-learning this mantra on the daily, but it feels like relevant sharing on a day that comes with rough edges for those who have lost fathers. Thinking of you, my brave Tumblrs, and wishing you the healthy kind of memory mingling.

"It took me two years after my father’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis to realize that I was grieving and when..."

“It took me two years after my father’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis to realize that I was grieving and when I finally figured it out, I could only think of one place, real or digital, to go: WhiteElephantInTheRoom. I didn’t know any other examples of someone trying really hard to live while grieving, especially when the grieving person is 30 and not 60.

I’m adopted and my father is (was) the person that everyone said I was like…losing him has been like losing a part of myself. Yet it’s been really wonderful watching you and your daughter find each other, a reminder that we can find parts of ourselves in different parts of space and time—past/present/future—without ever knowing they would intersect.

I hope you know that your work is really valuable, and it’s helping people even when you don’t hear about it.”

-

— (msavignon)

A smashing Happier Hour with host Aidan Donnelly Rowley and...

A smashing Happier Hour with host Aidan Donnelly Rowley and bestsellling author Jane Green, who intimidated us with her daily writing quota (5k words per day) but charmed us with insights about marriage and pots + pans.