Years I could have known him.”

“I know,” Elaine whispered.

“But taking those memories away from you wouldn’t return them to me.”

We stood among the seedlings for a while.

Finally she handed me a small pot with a label: blue forget-me-nots.

“He’s always liked these,” she said.

“Maybe we can both grow some.”

I took the pot home and put it beside the kitchen window.