"I''m afraid you’re terminal," said the doctor to Jacob.


    "You know, Doc, I''ve been working on an invention—a time machine. That way, I can go into the future and discover a cure."


    "Sure you can, Jacob, or spend that valuable time with your family. A cure may never come …"


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Hmm …"


    After several months, right before his predicted passing, he built it.


    Jacob set up the time machine to jump one year in the future, and another year, and another year, always the same hour and same calendar day.


    "Hello, Mirian," said Jacob to his wife one year after his death.


    "Am I going crazy?" She wept. "This can''t be real!"


    "It is. I don''t want you to ever feel alone. I''m visiting you every year until your ''departure.''"


    He hugged her, and she smiled.