Last week marked the end of the shloshim, the thirty day period of mourning, for my mother. I can now shave and get my hair cut, if I’m told that my appearance warrants it, which I have been, and it does. I’ve also been told that my sadness should be diminished, and that my tears will no longer spontaneously flow. Everyone around me seems to accept that my mourning has ended, and that I can now once again resume my normal life, with, of course, the memory of my mother tucked neatly within my mind, to be called upon...

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