The last time I went to see B, her husband G gave me a key to their house.
They were leaving before I to have a family dinner. At the last minute, I was asking what to do about locking up and G was surprised to learn I did not have a key to their house.
B has mine. I gave it to her years ago because she was visiting me and because it made me feel as if I were part of a family, as if I had someone to whom I belong. I never once thought about asking her for a key. After all, I live 168 miles from her, and in my condition that is more like 1,068 miles. It is not as if I will be popping by on a regular basis.
I had asked about locking up because I figured I would just twist a door knob lock or something. I wasn't expecting a key.
G's response warmed the cockles of my heart. And the spare key that dangles from my keychain makes me feel less lonely each time it catches my eye.
G surely doesn't know it, but that small act was such a magnificent gesture in my eyes.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
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