by Joan Didion
I don’t know why I read this. It’s about the year after Joan Didion’s husband died and her adult daughter hovered near death in various ICU’s. The “magical thinking” was semi-conscious thinking like “I can’t give away his shoes; if he comes back, he’ll need shoes.” I have not yet lost my spouse and I don’t know what to say about it; I guess, thanx for the tip as to how horrible it’s going to be.
Tytania 