What Making a Mask Taught Me About the Stages of Grief

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I made a mask today. It was hard, and not just because I’m not crafty, but because of the emotional turmoil it represented. For more than a week, I resisted and fought this weight on my shoulders that never left the recesses of my mind. Then, slowly, as I worked on it with the help of my 16-year-old, I pushed through. After we made the second mask, I felt a palpable relief.

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