I’ve been grieving hard this week, alternating between anger, sadness, restlessness and vegetation.
I see the pain in my face
Yet I see her too
Calling Social Security and my mom’s bank is actually therapeutic, in that I get to make it real that my mom died, which just feels so unreal.
Had my first good cry since my mom died. In the bottom of her handbag, I found a brand new white coin purse with plenty of coins in it, but I also found this old leather coin purse I made for my mom when I was seven years old. It had only two coins in it, and she didn’t need it in her handbag, but she kept it in there anyway. It — I — meant that much to her.