Postcards of Grief

Mourning is a process.

Comments on breast cancer by proxy, written by a woman coping with the loss of her mother.

Monday, March 29, 2004

File under "What the Hell?"

My step-grandparents-not-in-law:

Ahem. Unless you're dead, you have no call to tell me that my mother's death was for the best. I don't care if you're 80 and have all of the wisdom of the earth in your heart. Not dead? No input. Please drive through.

But, well, she suffered a lot at the end.

Hi there. You? Also not dead. Also not there. Who was? I was! She was quite comfortable prior to her death, and if I dare say so myself, I'd rather she were still here. Her getting better would be for the best, not her dying.

Wisconsin calling:

I got a call last night from a childhood friend with whom I hadn't spoken since last August. Among other things, she told me that she heard that I'm going to be a mom.

Whoa there, cheesehead!

She heard from her mother who heard from best friend's mom who heard from best friend that we're going to start trying to have kids, like, yesterday. At this rate, the next time I go back home, my dad's going to ask me why I didn't tell him that I'm pregnant.

Weight loss plan:

The cat hopefully soon-to-be previously-known-as Cat Loaf is going on a diet. The irony? He's eating less than we're giving him which is far less than we gave him before.


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