What did he think about as he glimpsed an evening sky in winter through his office windows?
Was the signal to return home a welcome one?
What did he picture waiting for him once he had opened the back door of his home?
Was there somewhere a final stretch of quiet he counted on, a time to be himself a little longer, a reason to slow his pace even slightly?
I hope he got what he wanted in his life. The way he wanted it. The way he always hoped it would be.
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Do you have any answers?
Sadly, the answers are no longer available from the one person who could give them from the heart.
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