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The Painful Journey Of Climbing Out Of The Committee By Sonallah Ibrahim
The Painful Journey Of Climbing Out Of 264
The Painful Journey Of Climbing Out Of The Painful Journey Of Climbing Out Of

The pain of grief is like labor pangs. Those precious few minutes between contractions give you time to catch your breath, to get your bearings back, to start to feel safe… then BANG. From seemingly out of nowhere, the next one hits you. And I was taken back.

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Taken back to that day in late July, In a room at Sunnyside Hospital. With my dad and my stepmom. My dad, looking all handsome and tan from our recent camping trip and his frequent walks at the river. Him wearing a hospital gown in a pattern of different shades of green.

The Painful Journey Of Climbing Out Of

My hair was down and crazy, I wore a purple hoodie. The nurse with the maroon New Balance sneakers came in and gave us the news, kindly, but matter-of-factly. The cancer had spread. There was nothing to be done. My gosh.

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It feels so fresh. I swear I can hear the squeak of those sneakers. I can hear the beeps of the machines down the hall. I remember the exact hallway I stood in, and the window I stopped by when I had to tell my aunt the news. I knew she was hiding in a closet at work.

The Painful Journey Of Climbing Out Of

I can hear her pain coming through my phone. Maybe it was ignorance. There was peace in the room. It was heavy. Somber maybe.

A Painful Journey Back

My dad still joked. His best friends came to visit. Like Slime in the hands of a potter that so desperately wants to mold something beautiful, but no shape would hold. Not the falling into the deep chasm of loss and uncontrollable sobbing.

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This came out of nowhere. Completely unexpected. I want to find a good groove and have God stick to it.]

One thought on “The Painful Journey Of Climbing Out Of

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