Mike and I weren’t on the same schedule. I’ve always followed Ben Franklin’s advice: early to bed, early to rise. Mike was a night owl, staying up to catch the late news. Or to watch The Godfather again. 

At some point in our life together he started leaving me a morning note, recapping the breaking news from the previous night. He kept them in a dresser drawer after I read them.

They’re all gone. I can’t find them anywhere. Except for the one pictured, from last summer, which I’d tucked away.

I must have known there wouldn’t be many more.