Ghostwriter
One of my friends was simply a very mean, very stubborn, old woman from Virginia. Getting to know her was like peeling a very rank onion, and still I drove 100’s of miles to visit with her one trip at a time.
Her husband was delightful. He talked tough and waved her off a lot of the time, still they cared for each other and stuck it out. Neither had any living relatives, so those of us who called them friends were what they had.
Her husband passed away with a massive stroke in a matter of minutes. I saw her the next day and she told me and gave me a big thumbs down. She was sad, still she knew there was nothing she could change.
In her younger days she was a beautiful painter. I am lucky enough to have one of her paintings in my home. I am not sure why, I really miss her today.
This is a Great to see.
It’s the kind of pain that never goes away.