Burt always called me during my respite hours. At one time, while he still could, he’d place the calls himself, relying on the numbers from the phone book I had made him. Then he started getting his aide to place the call or to text me to call him.
It was intrusive. I picked up calls at lunch with friends and in the midst of support groups.
Recently, my dear friend noted, “This was the first time Burt didn’t call during lunch.”
And suddenly I missed him. I missed the calls that interrupted.
A month or so ago, I had sent his number direct to v.m. It was an inadvertent choice, and I figured out how to reverse it. If he had phoned, my cell would have vibrated with the sound of a light gallop.
I realized that mostly I no longer heard from him. Another phase. A new plateau. If I called him, he would probably say “okay thanks for calling” minutes in.
I miss him.
this is our life 
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