Ancient History

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Wiped away

Two nights ago, Sam’s betta died. His name was Sidewalk and he seemed to be thriving. Sidewalk lived on a shelf in our kitchen in a heated tank for around a year. He was a deep blue with tones of purple in his voluptuous fanning fins. A nice fish.

Sam was crushed when he found Sidewalk. He was about to feed him when he found his fishy lying on the bottom of the tank. He cried and cried. I wiped his face with my hands and held him. That’s the best thing you can do for someone who is grieving. Shoveling platitudes about time and memories into the air never helps.

I was a wiper. A holder. But most of all, a wiper.

I wrote about wiping at Mile High Mamas. Yeah. Wiping. Go say hello, friends!

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