RAGE

Rage is a part of grief.
It deserves a place at the table.

This piece was sketched on a day when rage about my son dying was loud and unavoidable—one of those days where sadness wasn’t the dominant feeling, but fury was.

The middle finger and text aren’t about shock. They’re about truth. About allowing anger to exist in grief without apology, without explanation, and without trying to make it palatable for other people. Grief isn’t polite. It isn’t linear. And it doesn’t owe anyone softness.