Katie was always a glutton for the presence of her husband of 50 years, Jules, a paragon of spousehood who, like herself, was a punctual person, never late to any event for which they received an invitation. It made for a wonderful union, rich in mutual respect for each other’s time.
Each day, she felt the stirrings that drew her to him, resolute in her determination to honor the daily appointment to sit with him and read the poetry of their youth. Walking through the beauty of the forest, careful not to trip and fall over the roots covered in whiteness, she wouldn’t allow the snow and cold to keep her away,
Inwardly, she feels the pull of the strings of love that attaches them to one another, a devotion that continues to be felt strongly, even though he lives in assisted living quarters now. It is a loyalty that not even the grave will alter.