A different kind of love story

Hospice~ Many years ago I volunteered for hospice in Denver Colorado, I was in my 20s. There was a sweet man I used to visit. The first time I walked into his room he called me Lorraine.
I introduced my self as Sariah your new visitor; assuming that Lorraine was his last volunteer. He told me later that Lorraine was his first love and she was the one person he would wish to see before he died. They were young lovers before the war. Thinking of her got him through that terrible time. He promised he would marry her when he came back, she promised she would wait. He returned to find his precious love had left to marry another and start a little family. They never talked again but he still loved her with all his heart. After his full life of family, work, hobbies, whatever the only thought left was Loraine.

How I fit into the picture is that I looked exactly like Lorraine. I show up in the last minutes of his life on his death-bed as the woman he had always loved, the same age and face of his angel with a warm farewell. 
I held his hand and listened to how much he loved me, (Lorraine). I told him that I loved him too. 
When I brushed his hair he apologized for leaving me and going to fight for our country. I accepted his apologies and told him I would see him real soon. 
He died the next day. 
The crazy part of this is I can see his face so clearly but I have no idea what his name was.

What I have learned is love has many faces
I experience my own divinity through loving others…

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