My neighbor has been up over the weekend. She's a widow now, like me. And yet not like me. She and her dear husband Tom had many, many years together. So many more than Donnie and I had.
Yet I know she feels the same way I felt in those first few months. Because whether you were together two years, or ten years or thirty years, there isn't anyone who would say, 'We had enough time, we had enough days and nights together.'
She's been here with a friend, packing up a few things at the house. She had an appraiser over Monday, to look at the furniture and antiques she and her husband spent hours selecting to furnish their vacation home they'd worked so hard to own.
There will be an estate sale Memorial day weekend, and she won't be up here for that. The fact of the matter is, this is most likely her last visit here.
I know we'll keep in touch, a letter or card here, a phone call there. But it surely won't be the same.
the luxury of time
13 hours ago