When Bette met her husband, he was leaning against a wall at a party. He had, as she put it, “smoldering looks and banked fires.” He was from Brooklyn; she was from the Bronx. She assumed his silent “bad boy” vibe meant “dangerous love and dramatic heartbreak.” They got married, and she realized that she’d misread his quiet demeanor: “His eyes were simply beautiful, and his silence wasn’t fierce; he just didn’t have anything to say at the moment.” After 56 years together, Bette’s husband passed away on the eve of the pandemic. Bette, now alone, shares what had kept them together all these years, and what their long love means to her now. Featured stories:“Widow Walks Into Wall, Finds Hope,” Bette Ann Moskowitz“Seeing Her in Me,” Alicia Gabe Bette's story was recorded by Audm. To hear more audio stories from publishers like The New York Times, download Audm for iPhone or Android. You can find more information on today's episode here.
This podcast is supported by Cartier.
I was at a new friend's apartment not too long ago where I told her that I haven't spoken to my father in almost four years.
She turned to me and said, I feel so sorry for him.
I froze.
Naturally, because people normally say that they feel sorry for me when I bring up my dad.
Then she said, he's missing out on how special you are.
With love, from Cartier.
Hello.
Hi.
Hi.
How are you doing?
Alicia?
Is it Alicia?
It's Alicia.
Like Alicia Keys.
Alicia.
Got you.
Yeah.
Whenever you're ready.
Okay.