At 67, I Took My First Trip to Malta and Chose to Say “Yes” to Everything – I Never Imagined I’d Find Love Again

the final letter of my name too large.

Eleanor.

My husband had written that envelope.

My knees weakened.

Clara pulled out a chair.

This time, I sat.

“Where did you get that?”

David lowered himself across from me.

“After Ruth died, I found a box hidden behind the lining of an old suitcase.”

“Your wife died six years ago.”

“Yes.”

“And you found this then?”

“Not continue reading …