Then cancer took him away.
I nearly canceled the trip.
What was the point of exploring the world he loved if he wasn’t there to guide me?
But I’d promised him I would go.
So I boarded alone, carrying fifty years of memories and grief that felt almost unbearable.
On our anniversary, someone knocked on my cabin door. An officer stood outside holding an enormous box and an envelope.
“This trip is special. Your husband left something for you,” he said. “He wanted you to have them today.”
My knees almost buckled.