We met in Lompoc County, when a back road was the only way to get there. She was fifteen, bright as sunshine, walking straight toward me in that red dress with a crown of curls to match. Never thought she'd talk to a bumpkin like me, and I was right. Took three weeks of persuading before she'd ride out in my old pick-up; even then she wouldn't say much. Later I found out she was shy.
Couldn't believe my luck when she said yes. Never knew a sweeter bride, and she stayed that way. My Ginger did everything for me until the MS took over; then I did everything for her. I wanted to. Even this last thing.
Neither of us made any speeches. Our fingers entwined like ribbons of light, we said good-bye.
Her eyes were smiling when I pulled the trigger.
Pretty heart wrenching, any way you look at it.
The true story can be read here.