Sixty-three Year Old Widow Refused to Hide Her Gray Hair at Work

us go outside,” I said. “The air is clear today.”

We walked out onto the concrete sidewalk, the cool autumn wind stirring the dry oak leaves along the curb.

Cynthia turned to me, her eyes filling with something quiet and heavy.

“I don’t deserve you,” she said.

I did not answer with a speech about family or lessons learned.

Instead, I stepped forward and continue reading …