One night Angela lost patience with me. She broke things off between us. She said she wanted me to treasure my memories of Barbara, but the agonizing guilt I felt over my relationship with her was too painful for her to bear.

That night I cried myself to sleep. I was in an impossible situation. I couldn't allow myself to enjoy loving anyone but Barbara; yet, I loved Angela deeply. Now I had lost her, too.

As I slept, I dreamed, as I had done so often over the years, that Barb and I were together again. In my dream, she took my hand, looked into my eyes and talked to me about Angela.

She said she was very sad that I lived in such pain after her death. She said she had tried to reach out to me many times over the years but my pain and guilt blinded me to her overtures.

She told me that our love would always endure but that I must go on with my life. She said she knew I would never allow myself to live happily without her help.