Long, long, ago in a far-away-land (Beacon Hill, Boston), I had a lovely roommate named Patty. In 1961, I attended her day-before-marriage-to-Allen-events in Kansas City, Kansas, but flew to Omaha, Nebraska that night to be in the wedding party of another roommate the next day.
Patty and Allen settled in Providence, Rhode Island and Peter and I saw them (and their children) often as they were only 45 minutes away.
Thirty years later, Patty, a non-smoker, died of lung cancer. And although we saw Allen for a while, we lost touch with him after a few years.
Last week, I was wondering whatever happened to Allen. Google informed me that he passed away four years ago. I learned from his memorial page about their grown-up kids and that Allen had a long and happy relationship after Patty died.
It was a happy/sad walk down memory lane.