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I remember it well, we were all so young, and it so so glamorous, the way life should be you know? It was on a Sunday, because that is the day to brunch, and it was a spring Sunday if I can remember it correctly. It is hard to remember things correctly, time has a way of tainting memories for the better or the worst. But, this memory is crystal clear, as if it was yesterday. Because then, back then, life was full of surprises, and on that day everything began to change. Freddy, that is what we called him, because Fredrick sounded too pretentious, had brought the most beautiful flowers home. They were white and cream, with a soft pink undertone that matched their scent. He had come in carrying them wrapped in newspaper, and painter’s buckets full of white roses. ‘That better not be this morning’s New York Times,’ yes, that is what I said. I was so fiery then, and I had so much passion. That is the thing about old age, you don’t have the time to be passionate, and you are more concerned about your health than the intense feelings that emotions bring. Freddy and I were never passionate together, or even at the same time. We had to take turns. It wasn’t like a formal agreement or anything, it just always worked out that way. Freddy was a dreamer, and God bless his soul because he even passed away while dreaming. I hope I go that way, dreaming. You know his dreams were wondrous and extravagant, like a Klimpt. He dreamed the most beautiful dreams, and he thought everything should extravagant, and fairytale like. He was captivated by it all, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. But, his dreams got us into trouble, and those dreams definitely made us lose time, a lot of it. I hope I go dreaming of that lost time.