we sat on the concrete patio in lawn chairs; nylon stitched; very colorful….orange, yellow, green stripes…

mom and I used to sit out here, the old man said, sure do miss her, he himmed and hawed, sure do miss her…..

he kept repeating himself…each time as if it were a new statement, sure do miss her…..we used to go for rides….Amish country….we love  that broasted chicken….go in the house and tell her we’re ready….

she’s not here dad….she’s not here…she’s gone….

that’s right…she’s gone….she’s gone, he paused, where’d she go to?

I don’t know pop….I don’t know…