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About
These are the golden years, under the Florida sun. Now, released from the pressures of working and problems of raising a family, down South they come, still with their quick New York ways and the baggage from the past, unpacked, displayed like treasures in their new homes.
The marriages, good and bad, have survived the seasons. It is a time made more precious, coveted, because there is the awareness that this is the end of something. Not a gloomy thought, but a realistic one. This is it. When one of us dies ...
But could you ever start again? Could you start now, with someone whose history you do not share? With someone who has not known the smooth-faced girl or boy you used to be? Even given the chance, would you ever want to?
The marriages, good and bad, have survived the seasons. It is a time made more precious, coveted, because there is the awareness that this is the end of something. Not a gloomy thought, but a realistic one. This is it. When one of us dies ...
But could you ever start again? Could you start now, with someone whose history you do not share? With someone who has not known the smooth-faced girl or boy you used to be? Even given the chance, would you ever want to?