I stepped out of the metro car, fighting back the tears that threatened to flow as I rehearsed what i would say at Jack's memorial when I spotted it. It was a tiny red ring box with a golden knob on the front. I stopped to pick it up, afraid the ring might still be in it. The box was empty.
I thought of who bought it, who might have received the ring, and the whispered joys of unknown years to come, and i could not help but smile. I put the box back, thinking someone else might enjoy the sight of it, and turned to face the metro. There was a woman on the other side of the closed doors with a single hand pressed against the glass. She had been watching me the whole time and she was smiling. I smiled back and we held each other's smile as the metro slid away.
Sometimes, I love this city.
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
The Ring Box
This is a true account that I posted this on my Facebook recently, about 5 minutes after it happened. The memorial referenced was for the passing of my good friend Jack Nissenson (June 24th 2015).
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