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Day 325

  • Feb 2, 2019
  • 1 min read

Updated: Jun 26, 2019



The winter storm has meant regular trips to my former family home. I do a walk through and check the pipes at least once a day. I thought that being there I would feel an overwhelming sadness at the family we've lost. My constant heartache at how much I miss Constance wasn't turned up or down by being at the house. The house feels thick with the fog. It is haunted by all the love and memories there. Walking through the house I think about how beautiful it is and our wonderful memories come flying back in all directions, booming like a cold quake. We were fortunate to have this place, this family, that life. It was a place we filled with love. We were lucky.

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Please pardon the typos and pseudonyms. This content and blog is created and written in crippling grief.
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