Thursday, February 5, 2009
So you are probably wondering why I posted a picture of my feet on my blog. Weird, I know. I was in the shower today and as I was shaving my legs, something hit me. I have not painted my toe nails since Clarence died. Yes, I know. That's a little obvious. You are thinking what is wrong with this chic? What that also means is that the polish on my toes has been there since I was pregnant with him. I remember when I painted them even. It was the weekend of my husbands class reunion. That night was the night I had my first hemorrhage. Because of this, because Clarence was still alive in me when I painted my toes, I can't bring myself to remove it. It is like it represents a part of him, a part of my pregnancy, my time with him...and I don't want to let it go. It doesn't make any sense at all. However, it makes perfect sense to me. It is like a little piece of him is chipping away every day, getting further and further from my memory. Sometimes he feels like a dream. If this crummy chipped polish represents all I have left of him, what will I have when it is gone?