The last time I touched you, held you, saw your face, said goodbye.
List-making in a Dark Time
For any other list-makers out there, I published this on HerStories yesterday.""In this time of quarantine, my lists are offering me space outside of the walls of my home, a way of making sense of chaos, a self-imposed structure on structure-less days, and even a way...
Julia,
Tonight I finished reading through your blog; I had started months ago from the very first entry and took my time working through each post.
Your writing is exquisite, devastating, profound.
Although it seems terribly intrusive of me, a total stranger, to leave any comment at all, and particularly on this day of all days, I wanted to let you know that you are not alone, that your writing has deeply moved me, that although we have very different circumstances, I too have known intense grief.
And I am so very sorry, Julia. Although it is not enough (nothing could ever be enough), I do very much wish you peaceful dreams.
Erica
I hope you find some peace today. thinking of you often.
I came across your blog yesterday and read most of your posts. You are a very good writer. I would have loved to have some writings from my mom. I have experience the loss of my parents, but I can not feel the pain that you are going through. I hope and know that with time, the pain will be more bearable. Sorry for your loss and I will pray for you.
To echo Erica's words, I've been reading your blog all year. I can't remember how I found it, but since I share Audrey's name, I felt compelled to visit. Your writing is a tribute both to your husband and to your daughter – what a gift you are giving Audrey, to be able to follow your thoughts during this difficult time when she is old enough to understand.
Wishing you peace during the next year, and always. And know that lots of people you've never met are holding you in our thoughts.
Audrey E.