Gerry is a wonderful, sweet, man and lying beside me, even a bit shriveled, weakened and slightly demented by age, he’s still the person I fell in love with. Generous, he introduced me to opera and fine dining, drying soft Boston lettuce in a dish towel, when I’d only ever tasted iceberg. Before. Now, still discerning, he likes his salad greens varied and his meals as well as his wardrobe full of colour. I could talk him into buying a crystal champagne goblet instead of toilet paper or trying to plan a trip to Paris when when when. When the money comes in, when the warm weather comes, when the passports we need are ready and we can still count in English and maybe a little in French.
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