This is my friend Jim. He’s 96. I’ve only met him a few times, the first was about 9 years ago. His wife got him into making violins, which he loved, but it was too painful for him to continue once she passed away. I’ve never known anyone who loves their spouse so beautifully and so entirely. He loves to talk about his June, the most wonderful woman in the world. He alternates between giggles and tears when reminiscing about her. When he gave up violin making he wanted to give his things to someone who would use them. My name came up so he gave me a call and I drove to Cheyenne, Wyoming to meet him. On my second visit he gave me his thirteenth violin, unfinished. It’s been on my mind and on and off my bench for a good while, but I was finally able to string it up about ten days ago. Today I visited Jim to show it to him. In many ways he was the same old Jim – talkative and sweet – but there’s also some dementia setting in, so he wasn’t the same Jim I’ve visited before. He was thrilled to see me and the violin. He didn’t think he would ever see it again and never imagined it would be finished. He held and examined it in his shaking hands, tears in his eyes, and kept repeating how June would have loved it. I played him a simple tune and he told a few small stories. He was so glad to see it, and so grateful it’s finished, but never wants to see it again. It brings back too many memories of his beautiful June. I thought our visit would be longer, but he was overwhelmed, ‘the end of an era.’ This one’s for you Jim, for your June.