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Tuesday, November 23, 2004 Thanksgiving morning: A little more winter than fall, as this heavy-hearted dream was described to me. "Margaret" was walking to the front door of her in-laws' house. Did I say in-laws? Former in-laws. She stopped to wipe the frost away from a window to look in. The dining room was familiar — warmly lit, table inviting. Yet there sat "the other woman," in the chair Margaret had exclusively graced for 29 years. Margaret's fingers felt cold. Today, three years later, she is about to complete her degree. She's scoring 95% on her exams, and wrote this to me last Friday.
This Thursday, her fingers are still wet from that dimming Thanksgiving vision — more of a residual moisture than frost. And that's fine. —posted by Dell Deaton @9:01 AM EST 11/23/2004 [150] |
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