husband Ray died on June 15, 2015, exactly three years, seven months and six days after he was diagnosed with lung cancer. Since that hot Tucson day in June, I have traveled up both coasts and through alternating worlds of numbness and unrelenting emotion. This is a piece I wrote while at the gym about seven months after Ray died. It came to me as a quasi-revelation, the ideas fully formed as if the words had already been written. I jumped off the treadmill and grabbed my cell phone to record it before the words faded from the page imprinted upon my mind. is a certain need to examine this thing called grief something between curiosity and compulsion. I take it out and hold it […]
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