Sunday was your birthday. You would have turned fifty. Happy birthday, Ev.
I thought about you all day. You know, I still have your texts on my phone. If I use my best magical thinking, I can pretend you're still here when I read them. The first texts I ever got. They're at the top, so sometimes I scroll and run into them. A warm, sweet surprise. So happy birthday, Evie.
And hey. I miss you.