ten years

This has been sitting in my drafts for days. I’m publishing it unfinished. It’s hard to find words, and I’ve been a bit discouraged lately. This is me.

[written 12 June, 2011]

It’s been ten years since my mother died.
That day, I brought cupcakes to school for a friend’s birthday.

I had promised my mom that I would save her one.

That fucking cupcake sat on our kitchen counter for a week. I wouldn’t touch it. I couldn’t.

There will always be things I can’t let go of.

Styrofoam coffee cups from the hospital cafeteria still in a shoe box. Spools of thread. Every notecard with her signature starry-eyed smiling face scribbled on it

But for other things, ever so slowly, I am letting go.

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