The neighbor returned the casserole dish my wife never collected

Dear Delyara, My wife died eleven months ago. Today, an elderly neighbor knocked on the door holding a blue casserole dish. She apologized for keeping it so long. Apparently, my wife had brought her dinner after surgery almost two years ago and kept saying, “No hurry, I’ll grab the dish next time.” There was never a next time. I took it and recognized the chip near the handle immediately. We had owned that dish since our first apartment. My wife used it for lasagna, shepherd’s pie, meals for new mothers, funerals, anyone who was ill or too tired to cook. I used to complain because it was always missing. “Who has the blue dish now?” became a running joke in our house. I washed it this afternoon even though it was already clean. Then I put it in the cupboard and realized I have no idea how to make any of the things she made in it. The neighbor said my wife’s meal was the first proper food she ate after coming home from hospital. I wish I had told my wife that. Perhaps the dish had been sitting next door carrying one final piece of gratitude while I thought everything she had left behind was already inside this house.