She walked slowly. Drinking in everything. She came to a stop. Her feet poised in mid step. She gasped and her hand fluttered up to her chest. The world continued on around her. But in her mind nothing would prossess except one fact.
There he was. In all his glorying, and his misery.

She feel to her knees. How could she have forgotten him so easily? Tears sprang to her eyes. But she wouldn’t cry. Not here, in front of all these people. Nor at home, in her empty house. She will not cry.

She looked up at him. Willing herself not to let the tears spill over. People around her stopped and stared. Not only at the striking young man, but also the breathtaking women kneeling before him almost in tears.

The women took a deep breath and rose. She turned to leave, taking one last, long look at the painting of her husband on display.

That really did him no justice. She thought as she left the memorial.