What was on the wall that day.
My favorite song on the radio at the right volume in the car.
My mother taught me to read tea leaves. I don't believe in it. I love that she taught me.
A waitress remembered I asked for no onions from a year ago.
My grandmother taught me everything about love by loving my grandfather for sixty-eight years.
The night the power went out in '88. We played cards by candlelight. My father told stories of his uncles.
The kid behind the deli counter slipped me an extra cookie because I looked tired.
My wife sings me happy birthday off-key. Same key. Every year.
I have a window that opens onto a tree. I open it every morning. The tree is enough.
My grandfather kept his marriage license in his wallet his whole life. We found it at the funeral. Folded soft.
My therapist remembers my dog's name. That's how I know I picked the right one.
A package on the porch I forgot I ordered. Past me strikes again.
Public restrooms. Underrated kindness.