To Everything There Is A Season

The phone rang.

I just wanted you to know, she said. In case you want to call your uncle.
I asked my mother how she felt.
I feel nothing, she said. No different. I feel the same.
As it should be, I said. Just checking.
I feel nothing different, she repeated.

I believe her.
I think it odd though that her mother, her brother and now her father will all die in the same month of the year.
Also the month of her birthday.

Seems like a lot of shit to think about come every October.