Friday, May 28, 2010

Chin Up

Hey Wren,
I came home from work and wrote about you, worked on a draft that still isn't quite right.  Writing about you thinking about you Trying to make sense of your death is hard.  Realizing how much you're missing out on and how much I still miss you is heart-wrenching.  It is dreadfully painful.  We still need you.  The little girlies are bigger now.  Some of them will have little or no memory of you.  I feel physically ill just typing that.  I wrote about you until I had to leave to run errands that wouldn't get done otherwise. Today I remembered the way you used to say "Chin up, little one," when I was discouraged.  I haven't thought of that in over a decade.  I needed it today.  Thanks. Miss you like hell.

Love you, Celine

PS In keeping with your "chin up" crap I ignored my budget today and bought more postcards for post-crossing and also an outrageously bright nail polish.  I cannot believe I bought such an obnoxious color.  It's all wrong for me; much too flashy for the shy, low-key girl who tries to blend into the woodwork.  I'm definitely painting my toes and maybe even my fingers.  Just for you.  Chin up.

****Edited to add pic****
Yes, i still have paint on my skin, it'll come off in the shower.  Isn't the color attrocious?  I grin like a jack-o-lantern whenever I catch a glimpse of it.  Fingers are painted too.  The last time I painted my toes and fingers was the day of Wren's memorial service.  Wren died 3 years ago today.  I'm not sad.  She's finally free from the pain.  There won't be any new inside jokes, but the old ones still make me smile.  The nail polish joke is one of my favorites, but I'm not explaining it. *grin* Next time, I'm getting a putrid purple.

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