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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, November 18, 2008

Showers, cross-post

In the car on the way to Brooke's last pregnancy-related midwife appointment, Brooke asked me when my brother's birthday was, because she couldn't remember.

"April."
"April," Sanna repeated, thinking. "April, like... Grandma's!"
"Yes! And your Grandma S, too. Her birthday is three days after Uncle P's. She's my mom, and she's also Uncle P's mom like you and Karl have the same moms."
"And she's my mom, too!"
"No, she's your grandma; like Grandma is your grandma, Grandma S is your grandma."
"Oh! I like her!"
"She would like you, too."
"I want her to read me a book when she comes to my house!"
"Oh, honey, she would like that."

But she is not ever going to read you a book.


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