Postcards of Grief

Mourning is a process.

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

Thursday, October 21, 2004


I’ve added some new links. If you think I should have added you but haven’t, email me.

I also ditched the Haloscan comments. The little fuckers disappear after four or five months, and I wanted to keep all of the little love notes you all wrote me. I’ll be able to keep the future notes, so type to your (and my!) heart’s content.

A few weeks ago, we had a face cord of wood delivered. While it looks a lot smaller in the shed, it was relatively impressive in its doubly deep stack in the driveway. Later that day, I discovered that we had a face cord of unfolded, clean laundry piled next to the cedar chest. All those clean clothes! It made me a little proud but was pretty discouraging all the same.

I picked up my new contacts and new glasses this morning. They were both ready yesterday, but Brooke wasn’t done working in time to drag me over to the eye clinic. I must say that if I had had glasses this comfortable and cute before, I don’t know if I’d wear contacts at all. Brooke has always thought that I look cute in glasses, but just between you and me, I think she has kind of a bookworm fetish. That said, my mom’s image in the bathroom mirror caught my eye earlier today. I pulled off my glasses to blink at my face/her image in the glass and immediately recognized the same person staring back at me. Weird.


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