AT 76, I TOOK A BUS TO SEE MY FIRST LOVE AFTER 50 YEARS – BUT FATE INTERRUPTED BEFORE I COULD REACH HER

the people we had lost, and the younger versions of ourselves we still carried like letters carefully folded away.

One night, she said softly, “I wish we’d had one more chance.”

Neither of us slept afterward.

A week later, Margaret sent me her address.

Her handwriting was different, though not completely changed.

The capital M still curved in the same continue reading …