It was my fathers birthday

yesterday. I spent it with

my fiancé, homemade

beef stew, and alcohol.

I sported my torn grey

sweatpants and a college

sweatshirt from a college

I never attended.

I drank three glasses of

white wine. He liked it.

He loved autumn. It was his

favorite season. He wore his

dark jeans and sweaters, was

never caught without a coffee,

and wore a wool coat.

Sometimes I drink it black, to try

and be like him, but it finds its

way to milk. I even kept his mug.

This birthday reminded everyone

of what April Fools now means to us.

For me, it’s a reminder that my favorite

Baseball cap is still in the passenger seat

of his car.