On Valentine’s Day morning 1995, while living in a small town, I was to breakfast with a couple who were visiting relatives. Her sister had made the trip with them and joined us. What an engrossing lady - witty, intelligent, and artist and activist.
After their return to Atlanta, she and I exchanged a few cards and letters and I made certain to see her my next time there. By December, we were in love.
Committing to work and family, as well as a protracted separation/divorce for her, which was already underway when we first met, kept it a long distance romance. Every month I would make the 4 1/2-hour drive to Atlanta to be with her for a few hours. For two years we made plans for when we could marry and finally be together and we always had Valentine breakfast together.
In August, eight months after her first x-ray for a persistent cough, her cancer was detected. Seven years ago, on Valentine morning, her services were held.
My most romantic moment? Ever single one I spent with the greatest love of my life.