Postcards of Grief

Mourning is a process.

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

Tuesday, January 23, 2007


My grandmother is locked away in the geriatric behavior unit at some hospital. She said that she’s severely depressed and can’t eat.

I have no idea how old she is. Somewhere in her 80s, I think. She hasn’t met Sanna yet, for the simplest of reasons. My grandmother and I haven’t seen one another since my mother’s funeral. Prior to that week, I saw her around the time of my grandfather’s, her husband’s, illness and funeral. And prior to that, I saw her not at all in adulthood. I made a choice not to see her. I didn’t know her as a child, after all, and I didn’t think Sanna would be any worse off for not knowing her.

But now that she’s hospitalized, my gut tells me to go there. Sanna and I will drive out on Saturday to see the woman who beat and neglected my mother.

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