Leaving the apartment for the trip to Morocco, I remove the flower left on the spot where maman was ill—and once again the horrible fear (of her death) overwhelms me: cf. Winnicott: how true: the fear of what has happened. But stranger still: and cannot recur. Which is the very definition of the defnitive.
Thursday, June 9, 2016
Mourning Diary - Pg 158
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