Every year…
I visited my wife’s grave on the same day.
This year, someone had already placed fresh flowers there.
There was a small white envelope beneath them.
It simply read:
“She never stopped loving you.”
I had never seen that handwriting before.
As I opened the letter…
I heard someone behind me say,
“You finally came.”
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I slowly turned around.
An elderly man stood a few steps away, holding his cap in both hands.
“I’ve been waiting for this day,” he said quietly.
I had never seen him before.
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “Do I know you?”
He shook his head.
“No… but your wife knew me.”
Confused, I unfolded the letter.
The first sentence made my heart race.
“If you’re reading this, then you kept your promise.”
My wife explained that during her final months, she often visited the cemetery long before she needed it.
She had become friends with the groundskeeper.
Not because she was afraid of dying.
Because she was worried about me.
She wrote:
“I know you’ll blame yourself for the rest of your life. Please don’t.”
Tears blurred the page.
“You gave me more happiness in ten years than some people find in a lifetime.”
The old man smiled gently.
“Every year she asked me to leave fresh flowers before you arrived.”
I looked at him in disbelief.
“Every year?”
He nodded.
“She prepared enough money to keep that promise for twenty years.”
I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore.
At the bottom of the letter was one final message.
“If the flowers are still here… it means someone kept loving us both after I was gone.”
I looked at the bouquet.
For years, I thought I had been visiting her alone.
I never was.
