Saturday afternoon, at the mall, shopping for a new dress with your girlfriend.  Sounds like a good time, even though neither of us are really shoppers.  In this case, though, not so much.  You see, we weren’t shopping for a happy event, but for a sad one.  Our friend’s funeral.  The three of us, D, T, and me, we are sisters in every sense except by birth.  (A total aside, our three initials, DDT) D has not died, but she will, possibly soon, though no one knows except God and he hasn’t penciled it to any one’s planner. 
It was very odd, this shopping trip.  Most dresses were dismissed as too cheery so it was basic black or nothing.  T eventually bought a dress.  It looks nice, but there was no pleasure in this shopping expedition, none at all.  She also bought a teal shrug; teal is the color for ovarian cancer.  I suppose we could have waited to shop, but then it would have been more stressful.  Besides, we would only be postponing what seems to be inevitable. 
I have never thought about death as much as I have in these last few months.  It colors so much of what I do and how I feel.  Sometimes my living is too hard.

Dress Shopping
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