Epilogue
By mid-summer, shortly after I returned to New York, Rudi was fully ambulatory. Initially he used a walker, and eventually graduated to a cane. Once we’d figured out how to navigate the time difference, we spoke almost every day – convivial, extended chats in which we discussed our daily victories and setbacks. We offered each other advice, counsel, encouragement, even a reprimand when warranted. Conversational pauses and longing sighs telegraphed our yearning more clearly than any direct outpourings of sentiment could, though we indulged in them on occasion, had some randy exchanges as well. Temporary salves that only served to underscore the frustration of separation.
A few months in, Rudi’s fortunes took a turn when Sandro’s Australian father withdrew his custody petition – c
