I walked into the grocery store not particularly interested in buying groceries. I wasn’t hungry. The pain of losing my husband of 37 years was still too raw. And this grocery store held so many sweet memories.

Rudy often came with me and almost every time he’d pretend to go off and look for something special. I knew what he was up to. I’d always spot him walking down the aisle with the three yellow roses in his hands. Rudy knew I loved yellow roses.

With a heart filled with grief, I only wanted to buy my few items and leave, but even grocery shopping was different since Rudy had passed on. Shopping for one took time, a little more thought than it had for two.

Standing by the meat, I searched for the perfect small steak and remembered how Rudy had loved his steak. Suddenly a woman came beside me. She was blond, slim and lovely in a soft green pantsuit. I watched as she picked up a large pack of T-bones, dropped them in her basket, hesitated, and then put them back. She turned to go and once again reached for the pack of steaks.

She saw me watching her and she smiled. “My husband loves T-bones, but honestly, at these prices, I don’t know.” I swallowed the emotion down my throat and met her pale blue eyes. “My husband passed away eight days ago,” I told her. Glancing at the package in her hands, I fought to control the tremble in my voice. “Buy him the steaks. And cherish every moment you have together.” She shook her head and I saw the emotion in her eyes as she placed the package in her basket and wheeled away.

I turned and pushed my cart across the length of the store to the dairy products. There I stood, trying to decide which size milk I should buy. A quart, I finally decided and moved on to the ice cream section near the front of the store. If nothing else, I could always fix myself an ice cream cone. I placed the ice cream in my cart and looked down the aisle toward the front.

I saw first the green suit, then recognized the pretty lady coming towards me. In her arms, she carried a package. On her face was the brightest smile I had ever seen. I would swear a soft halo encircled her blonde hair as she kept walking towards me, her eyes holding mine. As she came closer, I saw what she held and tears began misting in my eyes.

“These are for you,” she said and placed three beautiful long stemmed yellow roses in my arms. “When you go through the line, they’ll know these are paid for.” She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, then smiled again.

I wanted to tell her what she’d done, what the roses meant, but still unable to speak, I watched as she walked away, tears clouding my vision. I looked down at the beautiful roses nestled in the green tissue wrapping and found it almost unreal How did she know? Suddenly the answer seemed so clear. I wasn’t alone.

“Oh, Rudy, you haven’t forgotten me, have you?” I whispered, with tears in my eyes. He was still with me, and she was his angel.

I’m an actor. To me, acting is a way of life. I have never been obsessed with the strong drive to become a star. Possibly it’s because I came into it very late in life. I was thirty-two years old when I became a professional actor. I was a little more realistic about life. The chances of becoming a star were quite remote. I’ve conditioned myself not to want it, because the odds against it are too great.

Since I came to Tokyo, I’ve never been out of work. I got a contract with a production company when I started my career as an actor. It has been renewed on a regular basis. They’ve had me put in different roles. I went from one thing to another. When I finished a play, there would be a movie. In between there would be TV dramas and commercials. Financially, I’m not concerned. But people who do the hiring can be very rude at times. They have plenty of actors and actresses waiting for work. They’ve had me doing unpleasant jobs, which have made me feel like I’ve had enough. But I always do every job with a smile on my face because I’m an actor. I’m proud of being an actor.

It is difficult to describe in words how I feel about my father, so I wrote a short piece of music called “Whisper of the River.” The story is about walking with my father along a beautiful river. Through writing this piece, I was able to express my feelings for him.

Now that I am older, I want to do more than just play the piano. I want to swim, ski, and climb mountains. Then, I want to visit museums all over the world and go to concerts. And lastly, I want to have a girlfriend. This is exactly what my father was telling me when I was a boy.

These days, I dream of being a world-class pianist. Someday, I will travel around the world with my father. We will sit in all kinds of restaurants in foreign countries and talk about new kinds of food. Then, when I get a girlfriend, I am going to listen carefully to my father’s advice.