Steve had been dead a month, but his clothes still occupied too much rent in their closet. His cancer battle had worn their marriage down to almost nothing but tube feedings and hospice. Clyde cried on their 30th anniversary and then the next week, he hugged their friends and pondered a new life without his soulmate.
Hastily packing up Steve’s suit jackets, he felt something large and bulky in one of the jacket pockets. “On our anniversary.” “Happy anniversary to my husband.” 30 cards from his beloved Steve. Tears flowed.
But how?
When?
“I see you found them.”
Clyde gasped.
Hastily packing up Steve’s suit jackets, he felt something large and bulky in one of the jacket pockets. “On our anniversary.” “Happy anniversary to my husband.” 30 cards from his beloved Steve. Tears flowed.
But how?
When?
“I see you found them.”
Clyde gasped.
