Fifty-one years of marriage, today would have marked fifty-two years. Though my mother’s heart and soul are forever locked in love with my father’s. Death cannot change that.
Yesterday as the day slipped by I thought how fifty-one years ago my mother must have blushed, must have giggled, must have been deliciously happy on the eve of her wedding day. Her expectations were soon to be clothed in white, vowed holy and dreams of happily ever after come true.
Today will be yet another one of the many “first” that she will have to endure without her husband… Ah the taste of love after death. A bittersweet reminder of life and love shared. How I wish I could make this day be less sad for her. Today is significant.
How do you hold a broken heart? What do you do with the many pieces. A heart can mend, but it cannot stop loving what gives it life.
Fifty-one years and today. The love story continues with a new chapter.
Photo: French antique wall sconce.
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