John looked out his front window.

“John, what are you doing”

“I’m looking over at the Walter’s house.”

“Why?” 

“I was over talking to Biil the other day. He’s been laid off from his job for a while…” John glanced back across the street. “The money is getting tight and he doesn’t know how he is going to make ends meet.”

John looked at his wife Gloria. “I’ve got an idea,” She left for a few moments then came back. “I made some calls.”

A little while later a car pulled up at the Walter’s and left some boxes.

He held in his hands the dying roses. The last remnants of a life and love gone by. He slowly moved from where he stood and walked towards the grave stone. It was only a couple days before he stood here, tears streaming down his cheek as the pastor made his way through the service. Now he was back to bring her the last of her favorite flower, red roses. The roses were wilting but he knew she would’ve still loved them. 

“Good bye dear. We had 50 good years. I will miss you.”

He turned and shuffled off.