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I'm fascinated by old photographs, in particular ones from my own family and my own history. There's something that draws me in to the moments frozen in time, before anything changes. That "something" is what takes hold of me on this particular day: the day before Tia's birthday. I write this because I can. Because I need to put it somewhere, and in part so that my grief doesn't have to exist alone. And as I write this my grief in me makes me want to sleep. It's like sand grinding over and over ...