The last night of my vacation with my husband, we treated ourselves to a nice dinner in the restaurant at our hotel. While we sat at the table holding hands, the restaurant manager – who had been floating around greeting people as they arrived – paused and came back to us.
“I love that,” he said, pointing to us holding hands. “Don’t stop doing that, ever. It’s wonderful, isn’t it? Being together? Enjoy it as long as you can.”
He went on to explain to us that his wife of twenty-six years had died two years ago, and that not a moment went by that he didn’t think of her. Seeing people in love reminded him of their relationship even long after she had died.
“You must miss her so much,” I said.
“I do,” he said. “Oh, I do.” And then he smiled. “But at the same time, I…
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