We walked back to Connie's room. Bill disappeared inside, and I left to visit another
patient. Later, I saw Bill sitting by the bed. He was holding Connie's hand as she
slept. The date was Ferbruary 12. Two days later I walked down the hospice ward at
noon. There stood Bill, leaning up against the wall in the hallway, staring at the
floor. I already knew from the head nurse that Connie had died at 11 A.M.. When Bill
saw me, he allowed himself to come into my arms for a long time. His face was wet with
tears and he was trembling. Finally, he leaned back against the wall and took a deep
breath. "I have to say something," he said. "I have to say how good I feel about telling
her." He stopped to blow his nose. "I thought a lot about what you said, and this morning
I told her how much I loved her... and loved being married to her. You should have seen
her smile!" I went into the room to say my own goodbye to Connie. There, on the bedisde
table, was a large Valentine card from Bill. You know, the sentimental kind that says, "To
my wonderful wife... I love you."