I Took Care of My Elderly Neighbor – After She Died, the Police Knocked on My Door, and When I Learned Why, My Knees Buckled

The first few notes were hesitant. My fingers didn’t remember at first. But then, slowly, they did.

Muscle memory from six decades ago came flooding back.

My fingers didn’t remember at first.

I played the melody Robert had written. It was beautiful. Tender. Loving. Full of longing.

When I reached the place where the music stopped, I paused. Then I kept continue reading …