It’s been over three weeks since he died, time to start looking through some of his belongings. I started with the drawers by his bedside. I found the usual: eyeglasses, a flashlight, a pocket reading lamp, a letter opener, some change, his Kindle, nail clippers, and — a bill dated last February for a sapphire bracelet from Bowers — I startled. I have never worn sapphires and have nothing to go with such a bracelet; also, it was purchased months ago, and I certainly didn’t receive anything. So if it was not for me, who was it for? I immediately dismissed the thought of another woman, but wondered whether he wanted to thank someone for a favor once given — but we always told each other everything. As it was Sunday, I couldn’t call the jewelry store and so puzzled over this strange find. Monday morning I called and was told that indeed such a bracelet had been purchased for me by my husband. Didn’t he pick it up? No, I said — I didn’t see it. I was asked to look in my safe and when I answered them that I couldn’t find it anywhere, a search was conducted and the object was found in their safe. I was so shaken by this that I asked my secretary, Erika, to drive down to the store with me. At my arrival, I was handed two boxes beautifully wrapped. The square box contained lovely sapphire earrings and the larger box a tennis bracelet of small sapphires and diamonds — and I was told the story. My husband went to the jewelry store last February looking for a sapphire bracelet, as it was a stone he knew I did not have. He ordered a sapphire tennis bracelet to match the ruby one he had bought me previously — “She could wear them together,” he told Chris, the salesman, “but she has no earrings to match.” He found nothing ready made to his liking, so he decided to design from scratch, carefully selecting a matched set of sapphires the sparkling blue color of the stones in the bracelet and small diamonds to surround them. He even secretly brought in a pair of my favorite earrings to match the size and style I like best and remembered to have them made as clips because I don’t have pierced ears. He had to go many times, and it must have been an effort as he was already in quite a bit of pain. He explained that he wanted it for my birthday in October. By this time, I’m crying, my secretary is crying, Sheila, the owner of the store is crying, and Chris’s eyes are red. He explains that this was very important to Herman, and he took a very long time choosing the stones and the setting. Once when he came in, Chris told him he looked tired, and Herman replied that he had cancer and was dying and did not think he would still be here for my birthday in October. On June 25 he called and said he was going for lunch at the Rotary and would be picking them up afterwards, to please wrap them up very beautifully. They would be for our wedding anniversary in July. After lunch, Herman’s pain became worse and he had to lie down. He probably planned to pick it up the next day — except that the next day he was taken by ambulance to hospice and never got better. I could not believe that this was happening. I had in front of me a posthumous gift from my husband, once again, once more, a gift of love. He had just given me a lovely pin — a coral rose — and I thought it would have been his last present to me — and now this bracelet and earrings. I put both on and walked out sobbing. Having been so loved and having loved so well in return are the rarest of gifts that anyone on this earth could experience. And so with this bracelet he was telling me once more and for the last time how much he loved me. It will be difficult to wear it without crying — without the pain of missing him so much, but then he would have wanted me to wear it, and so I always will.