“My Grief is a part of me; In the way my hands are” A quote that stuck with me, as the loss of my parents has made a mark on my life that is now passive in my everyday life. From wearing my father’s shirts to bed, to trying to get past the fact that they don’t know me past my eleven year-old self. I’m a version of myself that I can only hope they’d approve of. This piece is about the reflection and complex mindset I often find myself in when thinking about my parents and my own identity.