Don't matter where one's in love.

Time passes. So fast. It’s six years this week that my beloved wife Jeanne died. After 38 years of marriage and a 13-year bout with Alzheimer’s. No more grieving. Instead, it’s more like a celebration of having had Jeanne in my life. My first true love. A blessing. Of course, she’s still around. In spirit. I firmly believe that she arranged –from her perch in the spirit world – my ongoing fate. A second true love. An Italian. With whom I am living now. In Sardinia. Happiness abounds. Can’t complain about life. Even if I don’t live forever. Of course, that’s my wish. Everlasting life. In love. Remember being Jeanne’s care-giver and lover. All the good stuff. Nothing bad, really. Another blessing: The healing effect wrought by time. Bad and sad stuff fades away. Seems that all of life is good. An illusion, maybe. But hey, it’s the way I choose to live. Taking life as it comes. In Italy. In Minnesota. Doesn’t really matter where one's in love. –Jim Broede