Thursday, December 16, 2010

Confession of a surviving wife

Around his death, I distorted the logic badly.  I had to find somebody's faults, something to blame.  I crawled on the floor picking them up, even a tiny fragment of them, and held them tight.  Naturally many of them came from D's mom - she was the closest person.   I snapped at her, held grudge on her words, and hid from her.   I'm sorry Mom, and thank you for not giving up on me.  

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