“When someone you love dies, and you’re not expecting it, you don’t lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time—the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone.”
― John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meany
Today I’ve written three posts and deleted them all. What is there left to say about August 29th that I haven’t already said? What points could I possibly make about unexpected accidents, that John Irving didn’t say better above?
Love you Mom.