It’s as if they’ve all figured out exactly what they want in life. It’s fucking great. I bang on the window. They stop and look. I give them the thumbs-up. “Bravo! I’m very happy for y’all!” I yell.

Rob shakes his head and points at his ear. I don’t think they can hear me. They go right back at it.

Then, just like that, my indulgence in this, all this that is apparently life now, is interrupted by thoughts of my sister, and how she wasn’t scared of anything. Or was it that she didn’t care about anything? Why didn’t she call me when Heather died? Or even years later when I met Liz and we got married?

I try to sink these thoughts. My life has somehow turned out too good, and I worry that it might get even better, and then, after it gets as good as it can get, somehow it will all be taken from me. This is a reminder that some grief and some fears that I pretend are no longer alive are very much alive in me, alive as much as my sister might not be alive very soon. Wrap your head around that and walk straight through the fucking day.

But here are all of my students, kissing each other in the quad. I know they can’t hear me, but I bang on the glass and yell anyway, “Does this mean I’m doing a good job?”

By the time the window defogs, they have disappeared.