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old man sits at bus stop with wedding
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dress on his lap then a woman finds out
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why every morning at 9:10 a.m the number
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47 bus stopped outside Park View Station
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it was rarely on time but the people
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waiting were always the same office
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workers a college student with
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headphones and one man who stood out
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silver-haired wearing a beige polo
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sitting alone on the bench with a
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wedding dress folded neatly in his lap
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at first people just assumed he was
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running an errand maybe picking up or
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delivering something for his
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granddaughter but he came every day same
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spot same routine never boarded the bus
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never spoke much just sat with the white
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tulle and satin resting on his knees one
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hand gently pressed against the lace
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caitlyn Willis noticed him first when
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she started taking that bus during her
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lunch break she worked at a dental
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office down the street and often ate
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while waiting one day curiosity got the
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better of her she sat beside him and
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offered a soft hi he smiled back "good
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morning," he said kindly his voice was
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quiet but sure she nodded toward the
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dress "big day coming up," he looked at
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it fondly "it already came," he said
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then paused and went caitlyn didn't
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press further sensing something deeper
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still over the next few days they
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exchanged pleasantries he introduced
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himself as Walter retired groundskeeper
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lived two blocks away loved hydrangeas
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had one daughter and once a wife named
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Ellen one Friday when the bench was
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empty except for them Caitlyn gathered
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the nerve to ask "I hope it's not too
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personal but why the dress?" Walter
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smiled his eyes softening he lifted it
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gently and began smoothing a wrinkle
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like it was made of glass it was hers he
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said "my Ellen's she never got to wear
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it caitlyn blinked caught off guard
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walter nodded slowly we were young poor
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planning to marry in the fall of 68 i
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saved for this dress she adored it his
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fingers traced the beating absently then
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the hospital called leukemia aggressive
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she was gone in 6 weeks we buried her
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with roses but I couldn't part with the
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dress he looked out at the road i sit
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here because we used to wait here
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together for the downtown bus it's silly
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maybe but I feel close to her this way
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caitlyn's eyes welled she couldn't speak
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the dress suddenly looked different no
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longer just fabric but a memory
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preserved a ritual repeated in devotion
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day after day i only started bringing it
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with me these last few years Walter
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continued i used to keep it in a cedar
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box but one morning I woke up and missed
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her so much I needed to hold something
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this This was hers it still smells
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faintly of the lavender she used to tuck
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in our drawers caitlyn sat with him in
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silence that day the bus came and went
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he didn't seem to notice neither did she
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a few others glanced but said nothing
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the city hummed on oblivious to the
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quiet story unfolding on a bench caitlyn
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asked if he had any photos he chuckled
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dozens i'll bring one tomorrow the next
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day Walter showed her a picture a young
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woman in a floral sundress barefoot in
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the park smiling with her whole face
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"that's Ellen," he said his thumb
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rubbing the worn edge of the photo "she
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made everyone feel like they mattered,"
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Caitlyn nodded "she still does," she
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said quietly "through you." Word spread
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slowly among the regulars people started
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nodding to Walter one woman left him a
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small bouquet a man brought coffee
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someone knit a soft white cover for the
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dress to keep it clean walter never
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asked for any of it but he received each
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gesture with the grace of someone who'd
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spent a lifetime loving gently one
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afternoon the dress wasn't there walter
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sat alone empty lap hands folded caitlyn
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rushed over concerned "everything okay?"
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she asked he smiled "it needed a
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cleaning," he said "didn't want it to
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fade too much." She exhaled "you had me
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worried." He patted her hand "i'll bring
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it back tomorrow she'd never forgive me
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if I let it yellow." A few weeks later
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Walter didn't come nor the next day or
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the next the bench looked wrong without
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him caitlyn stopped by his street
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nervous she knocked a younger woman
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answered the door eyes red rimmed "you
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must be Caitlyn," she said "i'm his
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daughter." He passed peacefully in his
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sleep two nights ago caitlyn's chest
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tightened "i'm so sorry," the woman
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stepped aside "he spoke of you often
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said you reminded him of Ellen's
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warmth." She handed Caitlyn a small
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ribbon wrapped box he wanted you to have
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this inside was a folded note and a
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brooch delicate silver shaped like a
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hydrangeanger the note simply read
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"Thank you for seeing me." The next week
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the regulars gathered at the bus stop
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someone placed a wooden plaque on the
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bench fixed to the back rest it read "In
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memory of Walter Ellen a love that
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waited and never faded." Beneath it a
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drawing of a wedding dress and a small
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spray of lavender etched with care now
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each spring on the anniversary of his
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passing people gather briefly at the
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stop some bring flowers some just sit
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caitlyn wears the brooch every time she
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doesn't need to speak walter's story
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lives in the quiet moments in fabric in
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memory and in the space beside her where
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love once sat waiting patiently for one
