Survivor’s guilt.
I knew the phrase.
I had read about it.
I had helped veterans find books about it at the library.
But I had never imagined the quiet man across the street had carried it into his seventies.
Walter continued.
“Then I got married.”
I nodded slowly.
“Had boys.”
“Yes.”
“My wife knew about Thomas.”
“She knew about the letter?”
“Yes.”
I felt another flash of anger.
“She told me to give it to you.”
“Smart woman.”
“She was.”
Walter smiled painfully.
“But every year that passed made it worse.”
“So instead of doing it late, you did nothing.”
“Yes.”
He looked toward the window.
“Then your house went up for sale across from mine.”
“My house?”
“The one I bought.”
I stared.
“You moved here because of me?”
“Because of the promise.”
“Walter.”
“I told myself if I lived close enough, eventually I’d find the courage.”Packaging
