Salvatore, or Sam, was the typical cute old man. His small, pudgy figure was accented by the sweater vests and the thick glasses resting on his nose. He came out of his house every morning at 7:05 in his bathrobe, coffee cup in hand, to get the newspaper and chat with whoever was out, and again at around three to retrieve the mail. Wherever he was, Salvatore shared his friendliness with others; his bright spirits and lively chuckle were contagious. Salvatore was never alone either. His wife, Betty, was always at his side with a warm smile spread across her face.
Betty and Sam were healthy for their age. Always out and about, but as time went on, everything began to change. Slowly, it became apparent that when out on their daily afternoon stroll, Betty leaned on Salvatore for support. She had lost the color in her usually rosy cheeks and looked as if she was drowning in her own sweater. The walks dwindled from the usual thirty minutes, to twenty, to ten, and then to only a few steps down the driveway. Then one day, Betty wasn’t with Sam. He remained alone every day as he shuffled down the street: face solemn and shoulders drooping. When he came for the mail, still in his bathrobe, that’s when the neighbors’ thoughts became reality: She had cancer, and because it was caught so late, it was doubtful that she would make it to Thanksgiving.
Betty came home from the hospital soon after. Although she didn’t look well from the outside, she was still loving and happy and the twinkle in her eye remained. Early one morning, just as the sun was rising, Sam and Betty set out on their final journey together. They drove in silence through rolling hills and thick forests, admiring the beauty, and came to rest in an open field filled with purple and pink flowers. Sam and Betty sat there in the warm sunshine and reminisced about their children and grandchildren; they laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks. When the sun started to set, golden in the sky, Betty began to fade.
“Is it time?” Sam said.
“It’s time.” She replied.
Sam packed up their things and began to set up the hot air balloon. They set off up into pink sky. Betty and Sam floated through the air, weaving in and out of the pink clouds. They drifted until the sun tucked itself behind the horizon and the sky sparkled with stars. On and on they went until they reached the edge of the universe. Sam rested the balloon right at the tall, golden gates. He laid Betty in the clouds and set a bag filled with a pair of her glasses, a picture of them together and her rosary beside her. She was so far gone she couldn’t speak, but the look in her eyes reassured him of what he already knew: I Love You. Her chin trembled as she tried to hold back tears, but it was no good. One after another, plump, salty tears streamed down her face. He kissed her goodbye, lingering as long as he could. She squeezed his hand and he rose and climbed into hot air balloon. . As he turned back to the golden glow of Heaven, he watched as God took Betty by the hand and led her into shimmering light. He saw Him look back and smile as if to say, “I will take good care of her.”

When Sam arrived back home, he fell asleep in his recliner. He woke with a start by a ringing bell. “Somebody just became an angel,” he thought to himself, smiling. “Betty,” he said aloud, remembering his wife was still in the hospital. Sam rushed off. He ran through the silent, white halls until he reached her room. He slowed his pace as he stepped through the door, seeing Betty silent in her bed. He knelt by her side and put his head in his hands. Through muffled cries he wept, “She wanted me to be here! I was supposed- supposed to be here…” But then a nurse came in and rested her hand on his shoulder, “Sir, your wife wanted you to have these.” She handed him a bag. Reaching in, he pulled out her glasses, their photograph, her rosary, and a note that read: Sam, I no longer need these where I am. See you soon, dear. I love you. – Betty.