a “temporary” position helping me after my surgery.
Temporary became ten years.
Ten years became love.
Not the roaring kind from old movies.
The late-life kind.
Quiet.
Embarrassing to explain.
A love built on oatmeal, winter socks, crossword puzzles, porch lights, pharmacy runs, stubbornness, and two people laughing because the smoke alarm could not tell continue reading …
