As the students filed out of the classroom, he called one to his desk.
“Do you drive a green car?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered, and dropped her eyes. “Why?”
He took a moment, then asked, “Have you been to my mother’s grave?”
She looked up, eyes wide. “Was that your pickup truck?”
“No,” my husband replied. “That was my brother. But, thank you for the red rose you put there.”
Photo: The thinking tree beside Dad and Mom
Lindquist’s grave, with a rose placed by
one of Lane’s students and caregiver to