For a couple of weeks the phone calls and cards expressed sympathies. Then as suddenly as death itself, they stopped. For the next year, things reminded me of her; a favorite song on the radio or someone would cook a dish she liked. Now, I only remember her twice a year. On her birthday I tweet she would’ve been 104. I wish her a happy birthday in Heaven. As if they had birthdays in Heaven. On the anniversary of her death I post on Facebook how I miss her and quickly scroll on to the next newsfeed.
Oh look…tiny goats.