I Returned to the Same Diner Every Birthday

birthdays make the air feel heavier. It’s not just the candles, the quiet house, or the ache in my knees. It’s the knowing that comes only after you’ve lived long enough to lose people who once seemed permanent.

Today is my 85th birthday.

Like every year since Steed passed, I got up early and made myself presentable.

I brushed my thinning hair into a continue reading …