He spoke of her not with fresh pain but with a warmth that suggested love had found a new place to rest.

Before heading inside, he pressed the photograph of Rebecca’s family against his chest.

“For a long time, I thought outliving everybody was a punishment.

Now I don’t know.

There are days that still feel like gifts.”

I took his arm as he stepped through the doorway.

The children were waiting to show him the drawings they’d made.

Nobody asked him to give anything.