Trying to raise my kids the best I can

Friday, December 11, 2009

A memory

My husband is going to a wake today. Which reminds me of a memory from my past. When I was about six years old my uncle died. I went to his funeral and saw his body. At the reception I ate carrot cake, which is one of my favorites. Just as I bit into it I remembered the creepy look of the cold dead body. It took me twenty years before I could enjoy carrot cake again.

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