Remember that day? The three of us drove around town in your giant blue car with the windows down, laughing, sneaking through gardens. We all wore big summer sun hats, and I kept saying I was “driving the Misses Daisy.” The weather was perfect. We stopped for ice cream at the end of the day, and we all have a copy of that picture of the three of us sitting on this bench, smiling into the afternoon sun and holding our ice creams. I don’t remember if we already knew you were sick. In some ways, it doesn’t matter. It was a perfect day. And we got to have it together. I miss you every day.
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