“I’m sure she is, Nana. I bet she’s looking down on you right now.” Nana Faye snorted. It was odd to see the prim point of her nose turn up in such a way.
“No, I don’t think she is. I hope she’s with Elvis now… And Jesus too, of course.”
Nana Faye
Before It’s Gone: Love, Writing, and a Presentiment of Loss
...Joan Didion once described keepers of private notebooks as “children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss”