Ketika aku berjalan kaki pulang ke rumah di suatu hari yang dingin, kakiku tersandung sebuah dompet yang tampaknya terjatuh tanpa sepengetahuan pemiliknya. Aku memungut dan melihat isi dompet itu kalau-kalau aku bisa menghubungi pemiliknya. Tapi, dompet itu hanya berisi uang sejumlah tiga Dollar dan selembar surat kusut yang sepertinya sudah bertahun-tahun tersimpan di dalamnya. Satu-satunya yang tertera pada amplop surat itu adalah alamat si pengirim.
Aku membuka isinya sambil berharap bisa menemukan petunjuk.Lalu aku baca tahun “1924″. Ternyata surat itu ditulis lebih dari 60 tahun yang lalu.
Surat itu ditulis dengan tulisan tangan yang anggun di atas kertas biru lembut yang berhiaskan bunga-bunga kecil di sudut kirinya. Tertulis di sana, “Sayangku Michael”, yang menunjukkan kepada siapa surat itu ditulis yang ternyata bernama Michael. Penulis surat itu menyatakan bahwa ia tidak bisa bertemu dengannya lagi karena ibu telah melarangnya. Tapi, meski begitu ia masih tetap mencintainya. Surat itu ditandatangani oleh Nancy .
Surat itu begitu indah.Tetapi tetap saja aku tidak bisa menemukan siapa nama pemilik dompet itu. Mungkin bila aku menelepon bagian penerangan mereka bisa memberitahu nomor telepon alamat yang ada pada amplop itu. “Operator,” kataku pada bagian penerangan, “Saya mempunyai permintaan yang agak tidak biasa. Sedang berusaha mencari tahu pemiliki dompet yang saya temukan di jalan. Barangkali anda bisa membantu saya memberikan nomor telepon atas alamat yang ada pada surat yang saya temukan dalam dompet tersebut?”
Operator itu menyarankan agar aku berbicara dengan atasannya, yang tampaknya tidak begitu suka dengan pekerjaan tambahan ini. Kemudian ia berkata,“Kami mempunyai nomor telepon alamat tersebut, namun kami tidak bisa memberitahukannya pada anda.” Demi kesopanan, katanya, ia akan menghubungi nomor tersebut, menjelaskan apa yang saya temukan dan menanyakan apakah mereka berkenan untuk berbicara denganku. Aku menunggu beberapa menit.Tak berapa lama ia menghubungiku, katanya, “Ada orang yang ingin berbicara dengan anda.”Lalu aku tanyakan pada wanita yang ada di ujung telepon sana, apakah ia mengetahui seseorang bernama Nancy. Ia menarik nafas, “Oh, kami membeli rumah ini dari keluarga yang memiliki anak perempuan bernama Nancy. Tapi, itu 30 tahun yang lalu!”
“Apakah anda tahu dimana keluarga itu berada sekarang?” tanyaku. “Yang aku ingat, Nancy telah menitipkan ibunya di sebuah panti jompo beberapa tahun lalu,” kata wanita itu. “Mungkin, bila anda menghubunginya mereka bisa mencaritahu dimana anak mereka, Nancy, berada.” Lalu ia memberiku nama panti jompo tersebut. Ketika aku menelepon ke sana, mereka mengatakan bahwa wanita, ibu Nancy, yang aku maksud sudah lama meninggal dunia. Tapi mereka masih menyimpan nomor telepon rumah dimana anak wanita itu tinggal. Aku mengucapkan terima kasih dan menelepon nomor yang mereka berikan. Kemudian, di ujung telepon sana, seorang wanita mengatakan bahwa Nancy sekarang tinggal di sebuah panti jompo. “Semua ini tampaknya konyol,” kataku pada diriku sendiri. Mengapa pula aku mau repot-repot menemukan pemilik dompet yang hanya berisi tiga Dollar dan surat yang ditulis lebih dari 60 tahun yang lalu? Tapi, bagaimana pun aku menelepon panti jompo tempat Nancy sekarang berada. Seorang pria yang menerima teleponku mengatakan, “Ya, Nancy memang tinggal bersama kami.” Meski waktu itu sudah menunjukkan pukul 10 malam, aku meminta agar bisa menemui Nancy. “Ok,” kata pria itu agak bersungut-sungut, “bila anda mau, mungkin ia sekarang sedang menonton TV di ruang tengah.”Aku mengucapkan terima kasih dan segera berkendara ke panti jompo tersebut.
Gedung panti jompo itu sangat besar. Penjaga dan perawat yang berdinas malam menyambutku di pintu. Lalu, kami naik ke lantai tiga. Di ruang tengah, perawat itu memperkenalkan aku dengan Nancy. Ia tampak manis, rambut ubannya keperak-perakan, senyumnya hangat dan matanya bersinar-sinar. Aku menceritakan padanya mengenai dompet yang aku temukan. Aku pun menunjukkan padanya surat yang ditulisnya.
Ketika ia melihat amplop surat berwarna biru lembut dengan bunga-bunga kecil di sudut kiri, ia menarik nafas dalam-dalam dan berkata, “Anak muda, surat ini adalah hubunganku yang terakhir dengan Michael.” Matanya memandang jauh, merenung dalam-dalam. Katanya dengan lembut, “Aku amat-amat mencintainya. Saat itu aku baru berusia 16 tahun, dan ibuku menganggap aku masih terlalu kecil. Oh, Ia sangat tampan. Ia seperti Sean Connery, si aktor itu.” “Ya,” lanjutnya.
Michael Alexander adalah pria yang luar biasa. “Bila kau bertemu dengannya, katakan bahwa aku selalu memikirkannya, Dan,…….” Ia ragu untuk melanjutkan, sambil menggigit bibir ia berkata, ……"katakan, aku masih mencintainya. Tahukah kau, anak muda,” katanya sambil tersenyum. Kini air matanya mengalir, “aku tidak pernah menikah selama ini. Aku pikir, tak ada seorang pun yang bisa menyamai Michael.” Aku berterima kasih pada Nancy dan mengucapkan selamat tinggal. Aku menuruni tangga ke lantai bawah. Ketika melangkah keluar pintu, penjaga di sana menyapa, “Apakah wanita tua itu bisa membantu anda?" Aku sampaikan bahwa Nancy hanya memberikan sebuah petunjuk, “ Aku hanya mendapatkan nama belakang pemilik dompet ini. Aku pikir, aku biarkan sajalah dompet ini untuk sejenak. Aku sudah menghabiskan hampir seluruh hariku untuk menemukan pemilik dompet ini.” Aku keluarkan dompet itu, dompat kulit dengan benang merah disisi-sisinya. Ketika penjaga itu melihatnya, ia berseru, “Hei, tunggu dulu. Itu adalah dompet Pak Goldstein! Aku tahu persis dompet dengan benang merah terang itu. Ia selalu kehilangan dompet itu. Aku sendiri pernah menemukannya dompet itu tiga kali di dalam gedung ini.” “Siapakah Pak Goldstein itu?” tanyaku. Tanganku mulai gemetar. “Ia adalah penghuni lama gedung ini. Ia tinggal di lantai delapan. Aku tahu pasti, itu adalah dompet Mike Goldstein. Ia pasti menjatuhkannya ketika sedang berjalan-jalan di luar.” Aku berterima kasih pada penjaga itu dan segera lari ke kantor perawat. Aku ceritakan pada perawat di sana apa yang telah dikatakan oleh si penjaga. Lalu, kami kembali ke tangga dan bergegas ke lantai delapan. Aku berharap Pak Goldstein masih belum tertidur. Ketika sampai di lantai delapan, perawat berkata, “Aku pikir ia masih berada di ruang tengah. Ia suka membaca di malam hari. Ia adalah Pak tua yang menyenangkan.”
Kami menuju ke satu-satunya ruangan yang lampunya masih menyala. Di sana duduklah seorang pria membaca buku. Perawat mendekati pria itu dan menanyakan apakah ia telah kehilangan dompet. Pak Goldstein memandang dengan terkejut. Ia lalu meraba saku belakangnya dan berkata, “Oh ya, dompetku hilang!” Perawat itu berkata, “Tuan muda yang baik ini telah menemukan sebuah dompet. Mungkin dompet anda?” Aku menyerahkan dompet itu pada Pak Goldstein. Ia tersenyum gembira. Katanya, “Ya, ini dompetku! Pasti terjatuh tadi sore. Aku akan memberimu hadiah.” “Ah tak usah,” kataku. “Tapi aku harus menceritakan sesuatu pada anda. Aku telah membaca surat yang ada di dalam dompet itu dengan harap aku mengetahui siapakah pemilik dompet ini.”Senyumnya langsung menghilang. “Kamu membaca surat ini?” “Bukan hanya membaca, aku kira aku tahu dimana Nancy sekarang.” Wajahnya tiba-tiba pucat. “Nancy? Kau tahu dimana ia sekarang? Bagaimana kabarnya? Apakah ia masih secantik dulu? Katakan, katakan padaku,” ia memohon.
“Ia baik-baik saja, dan masih tetap secantik seperti saat anda mengenalnya,” kataku lembut. Lelaki tua itu tersenyum dan meminta “Maukah anda mengatakan padaku dimana ia sekarang? Aku akan meneleponnya esok.” Ia menggenggam tanganku, “Tahukah kau anak muda, aku masih mencintainya. Dan saat surat itu datang hidupku terasa berhenti. Aku belum pernah menikah, aku selalu mencintainya.” “Michael,” kataku, “Ayo ikuti aku.” Lalu kami menuruni tangga ke lantai tiga. Lorong-lorong gedung itu sudah gelap. Hanya satu atau dua lampu kecil menyala menerangi jalan kami menuju ruang tengah di mana Nancy masih duduk sendiri menonton TV. Perawat mendekatinya perlahan.“Nancy,” kata perawat itu lembut. Ia menunjuk ke arah Michael yang sedang berdiri di sampingku di pintu masuk. “Apakah anda tahu pria ini?” Nancy membetulkan kacamatanya, melihat sejenak, dan terdiam tidak mengucapkan sepatah katapun. Michael berkata pelan, hampir-hampir berbisik, “Nancy, ini aku, Michael. Apakah kau masih ingat padaku?” Nancy gemetar, “Michael! Aku tak percaya. Michael! Kau! Michaelku!” Michael berjalan perlahan ke arah Nancy. Mereka lalu berpelukan.
Perawat dan aku meninggalkan mereka dengan air mata menitik di wajah kami. “Lihatlah,” kataku. “Lihatlah, bagaimana Tuhan berkehendak. Bila Ia berkehendak, maka jadilah.”
Sekitar tiga minggu kemudian, di kantor aku mendapat telepon dari rumah panti jompo itu. “Apakah anda berkenan untuk hadir di sebuah pesta perkawinan di hari Minggu mendatang? Michael Alexander dan Nancy akan menikah!” Dan pernikahan itu, pernikahan yang indah. Semua orang di panti jompo itu mengenakan pakaian terbaik mereka untuk ikut merayakan pesta.
Nancy mengenakan pakaian abu-abu terang dan tampak cantik. Sedangkan Michael mengenakan jas hitam dan berdiri tegak. Mereka menjadikan aku sebagai wali mereka. Rumah panti jompo memberi hadiah kamar bagi mereka.
Dan bila anda ingin melihat bagaimana sepasang pengantin berusia 76 dan 79 tahun bertingkah seperti anak remaja, anda harus melihat pernikahan pasangan ini.
Akhir yang sempurna dari sebuah hubungan cinta yang tak pernah padam selama 60 tahun.
As I walked home on a cold day, I stumbled on a wallet that seems to fall without the knowledge of their owners.
I picked it up and looked inside it to see if I could contact the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled letter that seemed to have for years been stored in it. The only marked on the envelope the letter was the return address.
I opened the letter, hoping to find a clue.and then I read the year "1924". The letter had been written more than 60 years ago.
It was written in elegant handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower on the left-hand corner. Written there, "Dear John", indicating to whom the letter was written which was named Michael. The letter writer stated that he could not see her anymore because her mother forbade it. But, despite that he still loved her. The letter was signed by Nancy.
The letter was so nice.but still I can not find who the name of the owner of the wallet.Maybe if I called information, they can tell the phone number for the address on the envelope. "Operator," I said at the peneragan,
"I have a rather unusual request. 'm Trying to find owner of a wallet that I found on the street. Perhaps you can help me give a phone number for the address on the envelope in the wallet? "
She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who seemed not so happy with this additional work. Then he said,
"We have a phone number that address, but we can not give you." As a courtesy, he said, he will call that number, explain what I found and ask them if they wanted to talk to me. I waited a few menit.Tak how long he was contacted, he said, "There are people who want to speak with you." Then I asked the woman at the end of the line if she knew anyone named Nancy. She gasped, "Oh, we bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Nancy. But that was 30 years ago! " "Do you know where that family could be located now?" I asked. "I remember that, Nancy had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago," she said. "Maybe if you contact them they can find out where their children, Nancy, are located." Then he gave me the name of the nursing home.
When I called there, they said the woman, the mother of Nancy, which I mean long-dead world. But they still keep a home phone number where the child might be living. I thanked him and called the number they provided. Then, at the end of the line, a woman said that Nancy now lives in a nursing home. "All this seems ridiculous," I said to myself. Why would I bother to find the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a letter written more than 60 years ago? But, what I called the nursing home where Nancy is now located. A man who answered the phone said, "Yes, Nancy was staying with us." Although it was already 10 pm, I asked if I could see Nancy. "Ok," he said hesitatingly, "If you want, maybe he now was watching TV in the living room." I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home.
Nursing home building was very big. Carers and nurses on duty the night greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor. In the living room, the nurse introduced me to Nancy. She was a sweet, silvery gray hair, warm smile and a twinkle in her eye. I told him about the wallet that I found. I also showed him the letter he wrote.
When she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said,
"Young man, this letter is my last relationship with Michael." His eyes looked far away, to ponder deeply. She said softly,
"I'm very, very loved. At that time I was only 16 years old, and my mother felt I was too small. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor. "" Yes, "he continued. Michael Alexander is a remarkable man.
"When you see him, tell him I always think about it, Dan, ... ...." He hesitated for a moment, biting her lip, ... ... "say, I still love him. Do you know, young man," he said with a smile. Now tears, "I was never married so far. I guess no one ever matched up to Michael. "
I am grateful to Nancy and said goodbye. I walked downstairs to the basement. As he stepped out the door, the guard there asked, "Was the old lady able to help you?" I am pleased to report that Nancy had given me a clue, "I just have a last name of this wallet. I think I'll let it go for a while.I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet. " I'm out the wallet, leather dompat with red lacing on the sides. When the guard saw it, he exclaimed, "Hey, wait a minute. Mr. Goldstein's wallet! I know it anywhere with that bright red lacing.He's always losing that wallet. I must have found the wallet three times in this building. " "Who's Mr. Goldstein?" I asked. My hands began to tremble. "He is a long time resident of this building. He lived on the eighth floor. I know for sure, it's Mike Goldstein's wallet. He must have dropped it while walking outside. "
I thanked the guard and quickly ran to the nurse's office. I told the nurse there what has been said by the guard. We went back to the stairs and rushed into the eighth floor. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein. When he reached the eighth floor, the nurse said, "I think he's still in the living room. He likes to read at night. He is a darling old man. " We headed to the only room that lights still on. There sat a man reading a book. The nurse approached him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked with surprise. He then touched his back pocket and said, "Oh yes, my wallet is gone!" The nurse said, "This kind gentleman found a wallet. Maybe your wallet? "I handed it to Mr. Goldstein's wallet. He smiled happily. He said: "Yes, that's it! Must have dropped this afternoon. I'll give you a gift. " "No, thank you," I said. "But I must tell you something. I have read the letter in the wallet with the hope of finding out who the owner of this wallet. "
The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. "You read that letter?" "Not just read, I think I know where Nancy is now." He suddenly grew pale. "Nancy? You know where she is? How is he? Is she still as pretty as she? Tell me, tell me, "he pleaded. "He's fine, and still as pretty as when you knew," I said softly. The old man smiled and asked "Could you tell me where she is? I'll call her tomorrow. " He took my hand, "Do you know a young child, I still love him. And when the letter came to my life literally ended. I've never been married, I always loved her. " "Michael," I said, "Come follow me." Then we descended the stairs to the third floor. The hallways of the building was dark. Only one or two small lamps lit illuminate our path towards the middle of the room where Nancy was sitting alone watching TV. The nurse approached him slowly. "Nancy," she said softly. He pointed at Michael, who was standing next to me at the entrance. "Do you know this man?" Nancy fix his glasses, look for a moment, and paused not say a word.
Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, "Nancy, it's Michael. Do you remember me? "
Nancy was shaking, "Michael! I do not believe. Michael! You! Michaelku! "Michael walked slowly toward Nancy. They then embraced.
The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces. "Look," I said. "Look, how God wills. If He wills, then so be it. "
About three weeks later, at the office I got a call from the nursing home. "Would you be willing to attend a marriage party in next Sunday? Michael Alexander and Nancy will get married! "And the wedding, a beautiful wedding. Everyone in the nursing home were wearing their best clothes to celebrate the feast.
Nancy wearing a light gray dress and looked beautiful. While Michael was wearing a black suit and standing upright. They made me as their guardian. The hospital gave gifts to their rooms.
And if you wanted to see a bride 76 and 79 years old acting like teenagers, you have to see this couple.
The perfect end of a love affair that never goes out for 60 years.
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