ds and placed them in that golden box and tied it with the crimson ribbon as a token of his everlasting love for my mother. He asked that she open the box only if she knew he would not be coming home.
As those months passed, their love, faith and prayer sustained them through that difficult time until they would be together again. When my father finally returned from the war, they married. However, Mom kept that box unopened as a remembrance of their love and devotion during that hard time in their lives.
After my father passed away, I saw my mother slowly decline. She had lost the zest for life she’d once had when my father was alive. I knew she was dying of a broken heart because her true love never returned.
Soon, I found myself in my old f***ly home holding that golden box. But instead of a crimson ribbon, it was now tied with a blue one. And with that blue ribbon came another mystery.
As I untied the ribbon I thought of all those wonderful years my parents and I had shared. They had given me a lifetime of love and caring, and I knew I would feel that love for the rest of my life. When I lifted the lid and looked inside, I found that yellowed paper placed there so many years ago and a new page written in my mother’s own hand. It read: