“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.’”

He said he was a photographer, traveled frequently, and had only returned from a long trip the day before. We talked almost two hours. He asked questions, listened to my stories, and kept telling me I didn’t look my age at all. Maybe that was exactly what I’d been missing. At some point I admitted it was my birthday. He looked surprised, called the continue reading …