I Never Married After My First Love Disappeared in Vietnam—At 80, a Stranger Who Looked Just Like Him Handed Me a Blue Box

Once, he called me by his late wife’s name.

“I’m not ready to leave.”

The mistake hurt, but I didn’t correct him.

He looked embarrassed.

“I keep losing people,” he said. “In my mind and for real.”

“Then I’ll keep introducing myself.”

Another afternoon, he interrupted my reading.

“That fellow talks too much.”

“I keep losing people.”