Part One: Breathe In, Breathe Out
On trying to process imminent grief
“Do you think he knew why we did that? Like he knows I’m at death’s door?” she asks as we walk out of the bank.
We’d just met with a Wells Fargo associate to add my name to her account, another dispiriting preemptive task. I look at her with eyes that beg her to stop alluding to the inevitable. “Do you really feel like…