I'm still not ready to accept these permanent changes to the way I think, that whole chunks of my life's experiences are wholly inaccessible to me now. It's like a beloved photo album was punted it into the air and many of those key moments and conversations scattered, leaving sticky yellow rectangles and partially filled pages.
I pounded my fists into the snow, packing down the bucket, an obsessive attempt at completing the igloo Julian had started. Being only 6, he gave up about two bricks into the process before returning to his sled. Sliding the icy cylinder into place, soaking in the silence of winter, I let the first fiery… Continue reading Trying and Crying, an Igloo made of Tears: Employment after Cancer