For 23 years, I lived with regret, convinced I had lost my wife, Emily, forever. I mourned her every day, visiting the place where her memory rested, never imagining that life still had one last meeting in store for us.One afternoon, I agreed to pick up a new colleague arriving from Germany. When Elsa appeared at the airport, something about her struck me — her smile, her humor, even the way she carried herself felt strangely familiar.
