text: The old woman stood at the glass case, thumbing a folded up five dollar bill in her hand. At last the line had moved forward enough for her to see half-gone trays of pastry delights, all neatly labeled with colorful cards and cheerful designs. So many options to choose from, but she knew what she wanted. She let out a sigh of relief to see there were still a few of her choice left, all pink and red frosting with heart sprinkles. “Hello ma’am, what can I get you?” The cashier barely looked at her, but she didn’t mind. The little shop was packed near to bursting for the grand opening. “I’ll take the romance cookie, please!” It was then that the cashier fully noticed Rose, the little woman bundled up in her threadbare housecoat and silk headscarf. “Ma’am, can I interest you in a Youth Pop?” “No thank you, sir, just the cookie please!” She replied with more grace than she felt. Young people. They always thought old people wanted to feel young again. Maybe some did. Not her. There was only one thing she wished she could feel again. “It’s my anniversary,” she whispered, but the cashier had already taken her money and bustled away to the far case. When he returned she thanked him with more sweetness than he deserved. With the craft paper package in hand, Rose navigated through the throng of incoming customers to the street again. Her feet ached, but the fresh air was a nice change from being cooped up inside like she usually was around this time of year. April was the month Marty had died, five years ago almost to the day. Usually she spent the month in isolation. If she was honest with herself she spent most months in isolation, but this year she felt... different. Instead of turning on Memorial Street, like she usually did every April, Rose paused and looked up at the street sign. A little further down was another street, one she hadn’t visited in a long time. Perhaps she would. With joints that protested every step, she couldn’t decide if haste made her little trip worse or better. Maybe she should have gotten that Youth Pop at the shop after all. With a determined grimace she powered on. Garden Street soon came into view. It’s tall lamp post street sign hadn’t been replaced since the first time she’d seen it, nearly fifty years before. She followed the sidewalk until her destination finally came into view. City Arboretum. Memories rushed back to her in a flood, sweet memories of springs that weren’t as lonely as they were now. White blossoms littered the lush lawns, kites billowed up in the breeze, and young families picnicked on heirloom blankets. It was just as she remembered it. So happy. So full of love. It took some time to find their old bench, but she did. New paths had been paved, and new benches put in, too, but despite years of wear she still found it. Marty’s carved handi work was mostly filled in now with grime and dirt, but it was still there on the back of the slatted bench. *M+R FOREVER.* She ran her fingers over it cautiously, feeling a wave of unexpected emotions as tears sprang to her eyes. For a moment her feet started to point towards the exit again seemingly of their own accord. She stopped. Her knees ached. Her feet protested. Begrudgingly Rose sat down. Despite fighting the aches of her walk, she couldn’t help but smile. So many beautiful memories of the old bench came back to her. It was then she realized she didn’t need to feel young again, nor did she need the little cookie she’d ventured out just especially to get. She could celebrate her wedding anniversary without it. Hours passed. The cookie remained untouched. Rose stayed, happily soaking in the rays of the sun for the first time in what seemed years. She said hello to every passer-by, and pet each cute little doggie that reminded her of dogs long passed. No one noticed when the kindly old lady with the silk headscarf never opened her brown paper bagged treat. “It’s my anniversary,” she told every young couple. They cooed and congratulated her, but never asked what anniversary it was. No one stayed to listen. No one noticed when her eyes shut, a gentle smile on her face. In her daydreaming Marty sat next to her, holding her hand just like the old days. She re-lived the time they snuck through the arboretum at night and canoodled, trading boozy kisses far past curfew. She couldn’t think of this place without remembering taking their wedding photos in the spring blossoms, and bringing their first puppy to play with the other neighborhood dogs at this same bench. This time she didn’t fight tears. She embraced the simple joy of living in those moments for a last time. No one noticed when Rose breathed her final breath of sweet, fresh air, but that was alright. It’d been the best day she’d had in years.