I never eat breakfast. I know, a terrible habit, but I never have more than my tea. I carried my cup into the living room, sat in my chair, and looked...at the presents piled under the tree. There was a large heavy box in garish paper that clashed with all the other presents for my kids and their kids. It had arrived yesterday morning via Federal Express overnight service. There was a card on it in Ginny’s distinctive handwriting that said, ‘To my loving husband.’ I wasn’t surprised that I had a. “Are you okay?”“Yeah,” he tried to stand, but staggered. He reached behind, feeling for the bed and I helped him sit again.“I stumbled coming out of the bathroom. I think I hit my head on the door frame.” He pointed at the door I had just come through.By instinct, I moved to him as if he were a little kid and had just fallen off his bike and needed a bandage.“Where does it hurt?”“Here.” He ran his finger through his hair, just above the ear. I reached out. He tilted his head away and guided my. More

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