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Posted on April 30, 2012

My seventy-seven-year-old sister-in-law enters my hospital room and walks over to my brother standing beside my bed. “Hi, honey,” she says, kissing him. “Hi, Noah,” she says softly, looking down at me.

“Hi, Sharon. Thanks for coming,” I say, happy to see her. “I’d like you to meet my new friend Josh over here. I was just telling him the story about Robin and me.”

She looks into my eyes, smiles, and kisses my head, making me blush.

“You know, Noah, you’re a man after my own heart,” Josh admits. “I had no idea you were such a romantic. ‘And on that day you and I will simply sail away into heaven together’ — now that’s good stuff. Did you think of that all by yourself? Anyway, go on, go on; I love a good love story.”

They were all looking at me with pleasant eyes that encouraged me to continue. “So, like I was saying… it was a wonderful summer that I’ll never forget. But all good things must eventually come to an end. The air was getting colder and the leaves were starting to fall. And like the song says, ‘Seasons were made for change’, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Nothing could have prepared me for what would happen next…”

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