Nearly two million Poles arrived in St. Peter's that night while we tried to sleep on that wall. It was a cold night of 39, but the Polish singing and the children laughing-- these kept us warm. The cold sadness of losing a love began to dissolve into a warm internal storytime of "remember when...?" Remember when he went skiing? Remember when he came to St. Louis? Remember when he wore Bono's sunglasses? Remember when he blessed us at Easter?