Hearts must regenerate I told my sister.
She, who lost her husband Greg last October, assured me that it did.
I was looking for reassurance that day.
I had been looking at Amy's picture.
My throat tightened, my eyes welled with tears that rolled down my cheeks.
Amy.
The picture that I have is with her standing in front of a hugh garden of pansies planted in front of a beautiful grey stone wall. The garden is on Victoria Island. The picture will be one of the last things I place in my carry on luggage.
As was the fashion then, we all wore scarves drapped around our necks. No thought of terrorism symbols, no spineless Dunkin Donuts advertising executives.
When I get home, I have decided to plant gardens of pansies.
Maybe, Judy and Kathy and Kathryn will help.
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