One gloomy afternoon, as Sam sat in his dimly lit living room, he heard the sound of a moving van outside. A new neighbour was moving in next door. He had little interest in greeting anyone, but there was a knock on the door.
As he opened his door, a cheerful, middle-aged woman broke into a big smile.
“Hi, I’m Lily, your new neighbour,” she said, extending her hand.
Sam hesitated for a moment before reluctantly shaking her hand. “I’m Sam.”
Over the next few weeks, Lily’s friendly persistence broke through the walls that Sam had built around himself. She would often stop by with a plate of freshly baked cookies and chat for a few minutes, gradually coaxing him out of his shell.
One evening, as they sat on Sam’s porch, Lily looked at him with determination in her eyes. “Sam, now that you have shared a lot about your life with me, I believe you’re somewhat stuck in the past. I understand that you miss your wife terribly, but life is meant to be lived.”
Sam sighed deeply. “I don’t know if I can move on, Lily. Emily was my everything.”
She patted his back as she chose her next words wisely, “I am not asking you to forget her. I’m asking you to honour her memory by embracing the life you still have. She would want you to be happy again.”
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