But soonJulie CarterI'm writing speeches for my father's wake deciding how I'll hold my hands and head while speaking calmly of the newly dead enunciating grief without mistakes. I will not pull away if strangers break my spine in crushing hugs, attempt to thread their fingers through my own. I will not dread their platitudes or pity, and will make myself a smiling puppet. Casseroles will bring me solace. I will never cry in public, nor permit my hands to tremble, nor fuss when dripping calla lily bowls are marking rings on the piano. I will be as still as that man I resemble. Julie Carter |