A couple making the shape of a heart with their hands
credit: Ryan Anger/Flickr

I met him in the 90s in a pink rooming house. I had just lost Ruth, my mother’s middle sister. When I met him, it was a fluke. He called randomly on my telephone one day when I had just moved into this rooming house. Actually, he invited himself over for a visit. We sat talking. He wanted to know something about me. I burst out crying when I mentioned Ruth. She died of cancer as I was healing from my cancer surgery. He tried to explain to me that people are not going to live forever.

Well, he came to visit every day after that first visit. I got attached to him and I was calling him all the time for every little thing. He was writing articles at Howard University. He would bring me some money for the week. He also brought groceries and we fell in love. I was a temp typist, a struggling one. He suggested we open a business. We sat and talked and came up with typing for college students. I put up posters all over the colleges. I got some responses. Later that year, due to finances, I had to leave the city and go home. But years later, and it has been twenty years now, I still and will always remember him.