Izzy was just pulling a dress over her head, when there was another knock on the door."Just a second!" she called out in panic. She heard the door open and frantically pulled the dress down to cover her. "I said just a second!" she snapped as her sister came into view.Jessie looked at her with her eyebrows raised questioningly. "Sorry, all I heard was a muffled something or other; and I wanted to make sure you were ok."Izzy sighed and shot her sister an apologetic look. "Sorry," she sighed with a slight twist to her lips. "I'm just beginning to feel like my room is in the middle of the M1 or something!" What?" Jessie looked at her confused."Nothing Jess, it doesn't matter," Izzy sighed again. She shot her sister a bright smile, which didn't fool her in the least. "So did you and Richard have a good day out?" Fab!" Jessie smiled before giving a little giggle. "I brought you something ... It's down stairs." Oh?" Come and see," her sister invited holding her hand out to her.Izzy shot her. It was the obituary section, dated January of that same year. With a trembling finger, Pop pointed to one of the death announcements: Rose Marie Johnson, age 85, died of complications related to Alzheimer’s disease. John was confused. Never in all of his imaginings had Rose been an 85 year old woman. And how could she have written all of these letters if she had died in January? John hadn’t even received the first letter until February. He gave his grandfather a questioning glance. The old man took a deep breath, then told John a story. “Rose Johnson was my first love. A beautiful woman. Brown hair, gorgeous eyes so dark you couldn’t see her pupils. We dated through high school, and she meant the world to me. Then I went into the Navy, her family moved away, and we lost contact. I was distraught. I tried for years to find her, but by the time I did she had married someone else. I never stopped loving her. She ended up moving to the next town with her family, and I was able to keep.
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