Fresh Flowers (Episode 1,000)

Every day for the past two years, I’ve stopped by the cemetery on the way home from work and put fresh flowers on my wife’s grave.
It doesn’t matter if it’s raining or snowing or there’s a hurricane on the way.
Flowers. Grave.
Maybe a bit of wailing and shouting of “WHY? WHY? WHY?”
When I’m done, I get back in my car and drive home.
“Did you do it?” my wife asks.
“Yes, dear,” I say.
“Good,” my wife says. “Practice makes perfect.”
Looking back, I probably should have gotten her a necklace for her birthday two years ago.