Cornbread and rye spread across a green backyard. Cats roam in and out from under the porch. Crows swoop down and make reservations to eat. A hawk circles.

We watch from the kitchen window. Nature. Weeds are starting to sprout through rocks in the driveway. Leaves on trees have made their return.

It’s a nice picture, she says. Like a watercolor painting.

I nod and smile, fold my arms around her, thinking, we used to fight. I kiss her cheek.

We fought over the smallest of things. What coffee to buy. Or, which car to select. I wanted used, and she wished for brand new. She always got her way.

We fought over money and bills. Blaming the other. Never having enough.

She turned her face to me and whispered, Happy Easter.

I smiled and held her tighter.