I thought about the last words Diane wrote to me, when I went on a solo trip to Vermont in July, 2017. She wrote on a birthday card for me, in her shaky hand, “Ron, I love you. Thank you forever. I hope you are in good condition. And come home to me soon.”
Then I remembered a letter she wrote fifty years ago, where she closed as follows: “Oh, Ron, be real and be lasting. If I should lose this happiness again, I don’t know… ”
She didn’t lose it. Instead I lost her.
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