After 36 years of marriage, I lost my wife, Doreen, to cancer. During her final week, while I sat beside her hospital bed, she took my hand and whispered, “Russell, I need you to find Sylvia.” Sylvia had been my first love—the woman I had planned to marry nearly forty years earlier. I was confused. Before I could understand why, Doreen added, “When you find her, please try to forgive me.” Three days later, she was gone, leaving me with those words and more questions than answers.. CONTINUE READING
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