10k Facebook (mushy).txt <2025>

I went home and hugged my husband a little tighter that night. We spend so much time rushing toward the next "big thing" that we forget the most beautiful thing we’ll ever own is just... a spot next to someone we love.

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He looked up, his eyes a little misty but clear. "Nothing is growing, sweetheart," he whispered. "My June and I sat on this bench every morning for forty-two years. When she passed away last winter, the world felt too loud. But here? Right here is where her shadow used to fall when the sun hit the oak tree." He patted the dirt again.

Last week, I finally walked over with a cup of coffee. "Mr. Henderson," I asked gently, "I’ve been watching you for weeks. What are you waiting for to grow?"