The sympathy cards are piled neatly on my kitchen table. I’ve had them for over a week now. I have to send them out tomorrow. I haven’t cried either. It’s not that I’m heartless. Sometimes I numb out and feel like I should cry but it just gets backed up and stuck in a deep sigh. It’s my Aunt Beth. She died recently from complications due to ALS. I was not able to make it to the funeral. It is too far from the middle of fucking nowhere in which I live. It’s more like if the middle of nowhere had a middle of nowhere that is where I reside. I like to think that Aunt Beth would have understood my not attending her service. I visited with her during the past two summers after she was diagnosed. I made a point to see her. I just don’t know what to say. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I say it in my head. I barely whisper it aloud for the spirits to hear. They say the dead sometimes come in dreams.


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