Even Now, There Are Still Days So

I Was A Daughterless Mother. I Had Nowhere To Put The Things A Mother Places On Her Daughter. The Nail Polish I Used To Paint Our Toenails Hardened. Our Favorite Videos Gathered Dust. Her Small Apron Was In A Box In The Attic. Her Shoes - The Sparkly Ones, The Leopard Rain Boots, The Ballet Slippers - Stood In A Corner.

Time Doesn't Heal, I Had Learned, It Just Keeps Moving. And It Takes Us With It.

Grief Doesn't Have A Plot. It Isn't Smooth. There Is No Beginning And Middle And End.

We Were A Family That Made Our Halloween Costumes. Or, More Accurately, My Mother Made Them. She Took No Suggestions Or Advice. Halloween Costumes Were Her Territory. She Was The Brain Behind My Brothers Winning Girl Costume, Stuffing Her Own Bra With Newspapers For Him To Wear Under A Cashmere Sweater And Smearing Red Lipstick On His Lips.

I Have Learned That There Is More Power In A Good Strong Hug Than In A Thousand Meaningful Words.