That was my mother too: stubborn, funny, loving, scared, and able to hurt people without meaning to.

She didn’t have to become perfect for me to miss her.

In May I went to her grave by myself.

I didn’t bring the locket or the tin.

I brought the recipe card with the little note about listening.

I sat on the low stone wall and told her everything that had happened since the funeral.

Lucas was sleeping indoors.

He had seen a doctor.