He shuts the door and grabs a chair to talk to me, teary eyed and pathetic.
“It’s the end….I just want to thank you for all you have done for us…”
I’m too old for pathetic sympathy. I jump on a plane to find new direction in the endless rows of grapevines known as the Napa Valley.
Row after row of newly forming grapes sparkle in the springtime, a funny contrast to the crosses that start their foundation for life.
The rolling hills call for me to hike the trails. I find a small cemetery with a few headstones. It appears to be a family plot. The weather beaten fence surrounding them can’t stop the weeds from taking over.
Let’s follow a new path, and see where it leads.