The Day She Died

On the day she died, two years ago today, early, before I knew, I received a text message that said “Happy Birthday!!!”, from an unknown number, which I thought was odd since my birthday isn’t for several more weeks.  I deleted the message, then listened to my voice mail and realized she was gone.  And I began the process of saying goodbye, and comforting people, and letting people comfort me.  And part of me believed that she had sent me that text message, because she realized it would be her last chance to do so.

Today, while driving to lay yellow roses on her grave, I got another text message from an unknown number stating “Happy Birthday!!!”.  This didn’t happen last year, but it happened today.

And I know I should simply call the number back and tell whoever that they must have the wrong number, but I can’t, or I won’t, because I like to think, in my own little world, which I enjoy immensely dammit, that maybe it’s her, wishing me well, because she knows she won’t be here on the actual birthday itself to do so.

I hope it’s her.

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