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60 T H E U S E O F N AT U R A L O B J E C T S For a year after my mother died, my father wore a black armband, and the cold surrounded us. I was unable to remember the last time I saw her, when she walked me to school on the first day of third grade. Afterwards, she climbed the several sets of concrete steps up the steep slope to the apartment, then scaled the three flights of stairs to where she collapsed on the floor. The year my mother died, my father assisted me with a school project that required the use of natural objects. We constructed an Eskimo village out of eggshells and cotton, a diorama of igloos in a shoe box, my father’s black armband riding his biceps, as we worked our gloveless fingers in the cold surrounding us. ...

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