December 2011
17 posts
Who ran to help me when I fell, and would some pretty story tell, or kiss the place to make it well? It’s you, and only YOU. Happy Mother’s Day Mom, Diana Sindapati, I love you more than anything.
“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. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes — when there’s a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the...
“She let out a laugh, and then she put her hand over her mouth, like she was angry at herself for forgetting her sadness.”
“I am nothing. I’m like someone who’s been thrown into the ocean at night, floating all alone. I reach out, but no one is there. I call out, but no one answers. I have no connection to anything.”
