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

familiar way.

I looked at the envelope for nearly an hour before opening it, as if waiting longer would somehow make the hope inside easier to handle.

Then I sold my old truck, packed a single suitcase, and bought a one-way bus ticket.

At seventy-six, it felt both ridiculous and brave.

This was not just a journey.

The ride would take almost twelve hours.continue reading …