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On Death and Living

A new theory has hatched in my head. It is that when someone dies, they may invade the living in interesting ways. This is a new twist on leaving your mark. My mom died in 2001. She was and is an original, refreshing, bright, loving presence. We had a lot of girlfriend fun but not, perhaps, the kind many women would think of. Not, for instance, shopping. While my mom taught me much about taste and detail, she was a bit of a slob, to use her own description. She was the original earth mama. That wound its way into a healthy attitude towards physical health and an unselfconscious attitude towards more superficial aspects of life. Don't get me wrong; she could drive you nuts too, like most people. But she had many unique and amazingly great traits. She was a writer. Over the last couple of years, remarkable words she would have used regularly pop into my head. They are not words I would use. And they are not slang; they are rich, descriptive, educated language.


Here's a new one. Over the last couple of weeks, I have developed a craving for a crunchy flatbread that is the sort of cracker my mother adored. Now, I always liked these too but this is much more intense. It makes me wonder if she is mischievously channeling her enjoyment of these treats through me. I mean, they are incredible! I cannot help but think of her.

When people we love die, I've heard some say that it's the tangible, down-to-earth things about the person they miss the most. That makes sense because that's what's gone. So here is an odd way in which someone's individual specificity has reappeared. Can‘t help noticing it.

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