Makeup, words and Dad's sudden death


I remember I didn't put my makeup on the day my Dad died. Days went by without a clean face or glance at a tooth brush. My words left unsaid trampled over themselves in my mind, and kept me quiet asking why, why now, where there, why this way, while I went through my to-do list closing my father's life. It included deciding on an urn. My face became parched and dry.



More on grief, heirlooms and carrying on, on my narrative podcast series on iTunes here.

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