When Phil told us the news on the night Bernadette died, Sarah and I held each other and cried and then we told stories about Bernadette to try to cheer ourselves up.

Here is one of my favorites:

Sometime around her birthday last May, Bernadette and I were in her backyard where we usually visited, just sitting around and smiling and watching the birds. It was a glorious late spring day in the Poetry State Forest, and the cardinals were going nuts in the bird feeder. A hummingbird even came through.

We fell silent, watching, for some time, and then Bernadette spoke.

Bernadette: Do you want to play a game?

Me: OK, sure! What are the rules?

Bernadette: The rules are that we have always lived in this yard and there is no other world outside of it anywhere. This yard and what is in it is all there is anywhere. The whole universe is just what we see here.

Me: OK, let's play!

(There is a long silence during which we both start kind of silently giggling.)

Bernadette: (in an exaggeratedly friendly voice) Oh, hello! Here we are in the yard! It's really nice to meet you. What do you do for a living?

Me: Well, I am actually a famous rapper. These animals you see here are some of my fans and they have gathered today in hopes that I will perform for them later. But, tell me, what do YOU do?

Bernadette: Nothing! I don’t do anything! I am one of those awful layabouts that everyone always gets so mad at because we just sit around all day. I DON'T EVER DO ANYTHING AT ALL! ALL I DO IS SIT HERE!!!

Oh, Bernadette, my Taurus queen, who so loved beer and oysters and hated the long cold winter, thank you for all you gave us! You lived your life so you didn't have to do anything you didn't feel like doing, and it worked, the world actually just came to you, to this backyard, within which you found the entire universe, and it's the funniest thing, now you're gone, and I just see you everywhere.