Today's Her Brithday

She died last Spring, just as things were opening up.  Her death opened a giant hole in a lot of hearts.

Her husband devoted his life to making her happy, and he was quite a success.  He tended her when she was well, and cared for her when she was ill, and always made sure that she had what she wanted, when she wanted it.  She was always particular, and he didn't mind accommodating her.

Now she's gone, and his responsibilities have vanished.

I sent him sustenance from Whole Foods after her death; he called to tell me that almost everything I selected was our usual order.  I haven't seen them in decades; some things never change.  We grew up together and those early memories are deeply imprinted.

I'm still not used to the fact that she is no longer on this earth, even though our paths rarely crossed once we were adults.  Since April, she's taken up permanent residence in a corner of my mind,  popping up in the most unexpected places.  She never did this when she was alive.

Her brother is now the patriarch of his family, the only elder remaining in his line.  I occupy a similar space in my family.  Last week, we talked on the phone about how weird that is.

I never polish my nails without thinking of her.

I never read a paperback book without remembering her bragging about reading 4 books right now.  I didn't understand it then, and I don't understand it today, but I remember it vividly nonetheless.

Happy Birthday, Cuz.  May all your raspberries be organic and unbruised.