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Tag: Grief

Grief has no plot, like my blog posts.

I wrote on the 16th of November on the dreaded book of the face, how I found it distressingly amusing that in times of personal grief instead of being the lovable weird pink monster of glitter over sharing that I usually am—I lose all ability to communicate as I would normally do. Usually, I over share. I am, as a friend once told me, much like a too enthusiastic golden Labrador retriever stuck in a human body. I want to run and jump and over-share and wag my tail and be sad and happy and all the things without a…

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I Carry your Heart With Me

9 and 1/2 years ago we lost an almost 20lb meatball of claws and purrs named Raven. She came to Shawn well before he ever met me, via a lady who I believe asked him, “Hey, want a cat? We don’t want it anymore,” and became the illusive meatball ninja of almost-feral timidness that also demanded pets and scratching but only on her terms. When Raven passed, we were finally living on our own in a one bed room apartment instead of with my husband’s parents which, at our ripe old age of mid 30’s was a fuckin’ step up…

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