Because it was in February, I always sent her spring flowers - which she loved in the depth of the West Virginia winter.
I miss her. I miss her company.
And I promised God that if she didn't have to suffer, that if she wasn't afraid, that I would not act like a monkey when she left. And she didn't and she wasn't and I've kept my promise to God. I haven't acted like a monkey.
But I miss her. And I hope that there is a Heaven so I can see her again. Image: Blue Bell by Keep the Sugar.