He gave me a card, as he does once in a while out of the blue, about how I see him happy, and grumpy, and sick, and silly, and thank you, for still choosing to love him.
He let me take custody of his grandmother’s rocking chair indefinitely because I said I missed having one.
He told me to take my time getting over my divorce — to be true to my own timetable.
He called me a “lovely woman.”
It was a good weekend.