Over the week end, I visited the Old Man. This was the first visit since the Old Woman died. I didn't go earlier because he claimed he was moving away, far away. But, he seems to have rethought those plans.
And, I admit, I'm still pretty angry with the Old Man for some of his decisions that still, in hindsight, seem selfish.
He looked old. I mean, he is 95 years old, nearly. But, he really looked old. He's lost a lot of weight. He seems lonely.
He has blown up/reproduced several pictures of the Old Woman, and has them framed and throughout the house. In every room, he only has to glance one way or the other to see her face. It may be the sweetest gesture I've ever known from him. And, if ever there were a move that would cause the Old Woman to come back and haunt him, it would be the poster size picture of her face in the front room.
We spent a few minutes watching a ball game. He asked me to pick some of her flower books to keep. And, I got some of her artwork. Her hobby was illustrating wild flowers. This is a showy orchid.
The Old Woman liked to illustrate a plant from root to seed. She researched her plants and found the medicinal uses/folk lore fascinating. This book is my greatest treasure.