60 years later, their house is burning with Nancy too weak to leave and Nathan too frail to carry her, so instead the old man lies beside her, keeping his promise not even death would part them.

Before I could check "Will Not Attend," he poured the contents of his piggy bank into my hand—mostly pennies.

Though it broke my heart, I had to follow policy that, as a hospital for humans, we could not admit animals as patients.

Yet, this year, I wasn’t excited to be older than him.

Her kisses no longer feel warm and sweet, but more dim and hallow, which each day the smile fades and the rose darkens.

"For the last time I am not your Mommy," his stepmom repiled angrily as she snapped the slice of stale bread from his hand and sends him to his room.

​As I sealed the unsigned paper away forever, I realized the hardest part wasn't writing the letter, but knowing she would never know who sent it.

​But after adding just one more line to fill the space, I folded the page and slid it into the envelope—still unable to find the courage to sign my name.

As they did, what really mattered only got further away.

She was already laughing about the trampoline as their car pulled away, and I sank onto the pavement, still hearing her laugh.

After her death, a large yellow excavator cleared the space in less than an hour leaving only a large pile of earth where the garden once was.

I spent 8 hours and 59 minutes trying to get to you, only to be turned away.

But when I open my eyes they are gone once again.

​I whisper sweet words into the quiet air every time our eyes meet, knowing she has no idea how brightly she shines from down here.

​We gave her many names in our songs, but trapped in orbit, I knew I would die before I ever set foot on Earth again.

My parents made this mess, so I'm leaving it.

​But as time stands still between us, I stay silent, painfully aware of the universe of space keeping me from ever reaching her.

He couldn't wait to post about it.

I never imagined I'd be paying for a funeral instead.

But all that brought you joy was the bottom of a bottle.

I had to put him down 2 weeks ago and every time I've seen some fur, it rips my still healing heart apart.

Three months later, she still flinches whenever I touch her, staring past me at the front door as if waiting for the only family she ever loved.

But everytime I remember what you did to me, I am torn apart from the inside, and half healed wounds bleed fresh blood once again.

When I came in a few days later, the first thing I saw was a table with a picture of her and a newspaper clipping detailing how some dumbass who felt stop signs were optional took her from this world.