Sometimes Late Is Good

man's watchCouldn’t help reflecting yesterday on the day the dog really ate my planner. May 9 was exactly one year since my husband’s unexpected death.

Rarely did the dog eat his planner. He did not overbook and was ridiculously punctual. Among his things were eight watches and five replacement bands.

No surprise that for important appointments he was always on time. I just wish he’d been late for the final one. At least a decade or so would have been nice.

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