I was sitting in my car in the Walmart parking lot. Crying.
Not the kind of crying where a few tears roll down your cheeks and you wipe them away with the back of your hand.
The ugly kind. The kind where you can’t catch your breath. The kind where your whole body is shaking. The kind where your chest hurts from sobbing.
I’d gone to Walmart to buy laundry detergent. That’s it. Just detergent.
But I walked past the card aisle. And I saw the birthday cards. Rows and rows of them. “Happy Birthday.” “Celebrate You.” “Another Year Older.”
And I remembered. My mom’s birthday is next week.
And I won’t be buying her a card. Because she’s gone.
And it hit me. Like it always does. Out of nowhere. In the middle of Walmart.
I made it to the car. Threw the detergent in the backseat. Got in the driver’s seat. And completely fell apart.
I don’t know how long I’d been sitting there. Five minutes? Twenty? Honestly, I wasn’t keeping track.
And then I heard it. A knock on my window.
