“On My 62nd Birthday, A Stranger Bought Me Dessert With A Candle. I Woke Up Alone To A Photograph Of Myself Asleep, And A Note: ‘Forgive Me For What I Did Afterward.’ Then I Found My Safe Empty, And A Second Photograph On My Table: The Stranger Standing Beside My Own Son. On The Back: ‘Your Son Arranged All Of This.’”

the tables, chose a seat in the corner, and ordered a glass of red wine. That was where I noticed him.

“May I Join You?”

He looked about forty, well dressed. He glanced my way several times before walking over. “May I join you?” I smiled. “If you don’t mind sitting with a woman who could easily be your mother.” He laughed and sat down. His name was Daniel.continue reading …