When my mother died, I didn’t think my stepfather would ever find someone else to love. She met him when visiting New York and he moved to Paris to live with us. He’d always ask: “How’d this gorgeous French-Brazilian woman pick me?” They shared 16 beautiful years together. On the night of her death, he told me he’d “lost 40 years”, the years of them growing old together.
As much as I wanted him to be happy, I never imagined their connection could be replaced, it just seemed too strong. So when, one spring evening over dinner, he said “I went on a date last night” to my little sister and me, my eyes grew wide in shock. I was pleased for him, but devastated for myself. It felt like another era was coming to an end.
