I Was Married to My Husband for 72 Years – At His Funeral One of His Fellow Service Members Handed Me a Small Box and I Couldn’t Believe What Was Inside

She sniffled. “Sorry, Mama. He’d tease me if he saw.”

Across the aisle, my grandson Toby stood stiff in his polished shoes, trying hard to look older than he was.

“You okay, Grandma?” he asked, his voice low. “Do you need anything?”

I squeezed his hand. “Been through worse,” I said, trying to smile for his sake. “Your grandfather hated all this stuff.”

He grinned a little, glancing down at his shoes. “He’d tell me they’re too shiny.”

“Mm, he would,” I said, my voice warming. I looked toward the altar. “Two cups of coffee every morning, even if I was still in bed. He never learned to make just one.”

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