I saw the pretty lady sitting on the bench outside of the very upscale senior community. I remember her from previous visits because she came from Cuba back in the early 1960’s. She and her husband had told me the amazing story of their flight for a better life here where they raised their family. I asked her in Spanish……I spent a month in Ecuador and six months in Mexico so could at least be conversational.
Good Morning, Yolanda. How are you? Okay? How is your husband?
My husband died.
Oh, I am so sorry.
We spent a minute or so making very small talk.
I handed her a bouquet of very pretty pink flowers.
Oh, I appreciate them so much but I cannot take them now. I am on way to the dentist and I cannot hold another thing. The flowers are so beautiful. Just seeing them make me smile and remind me of Carlos.
Her eyes filled with tears.