We just finished watching the heavy-handed, syrupy Gerard Butler (what, there were other people in it?) film, "P.S. I Love You," which made me cry approximately forty-leven times, and mostly made Alex say, "Hilary Swank looks like a retarded male elf," or refer to her as "Hilary Stank." I don't think he's a fan. Anyway, yeah. This not-stupendous movie manipulated me all over the place. I'll admit I'm easy that way with the tearjerkers. I go right where they want me to emotionally, which is wherever the protagonist is. So I cried and cried and cried, because if my husband died, I would be DEVASTATED.
This phenomenal emotional sensitivity and empathy of mine is obviously highly appreciated by my spouse. Enjoy this audio-only video clip, which I begin by immediately using the word "audio" IN PLACE OF the word "video." I swear I know the difference.