A Lifetime of Valentines
‘Happy Valentine’s Day Maddie,’ I said softly as I leaned over and kissed my wife of forty-nine years. Maddie was oblivious. Morphine did that to a person, morphine and the last stages of cancer. ‘And Happy Anniversary,’ I added, kissing her again. I couldn’t stop the tear from falling and landing on her cheek. I wiped it, but another took its place. ‘I put your roses on the credenza near the window,’ I said, sitting in the chair I’d come to think of my own over the last month. It only...