Taking hold of my emotions I had my hand inches from the knob of the basement door when I heard the sound of running water coming from the kitchen. Fo... some reason having the noise on my level and knowing that I wouldn't have to descend into the basement washed over me as a great relief. Some of that anxiety returned as I crept towards the back hallway.When I saw the light shinning from the open door into the kitchen I again felt my heart come up into my throat. Moving as silently as possible I. As she continued to minister to me, still not a word exchanged, I began to feel guilty and, I’m ashamed to admit, filled with just a few percent of hope. Hope, because if the worst came to worst, I knew I’d still be heartbroken, but at least I had a woman waiting to love and care for me. To share her life with mine. Guilty because in my slough of despondency I was ignoring her needs. Ignoring what she might be feeling or might need comforting about.“Sorry.” It felt like the right thing to. More

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