My wife, Loretta, who had terminal pancreatic cancer, received a package containing a beautiful white ceramic swan.
It had cost $100, and our bills were multiplying rapidly.
“How could you do this?” I burst out.
“I ordered it a long time ago. I really wanted it,” she replied tearfully.
“It’s all right,” I said, ashamed.
“I love you, Bill, and I don’t want to die,” she said.
“I love you too,” I said.
The darkness of my scolding turned into a bright moment of mutual love.
Twenty-five years later, the swan remains. That moment is etched upon my heart.