The next numbers make me numb:

Zero college graduations.
Zero weddings.
Zero grandchildren.

Marla said to me at the hospital, “No glory days for us. We almost had the kids out of the house, and now you’re alone. I’m so sorry.”

I replied, “Sorry about what? You made life worth living. When you kissed me, I melted. I admired your pureness, your power. You outran science. Thank you for taking me on your magic carpet. Rest easy, my one and only girlfriend.”