Until Death do us Part ( Real love stories never have endings)
Olivia was ninety-three years old when I met her several years ago.I had recently gotten married and our conversation quickly turned to the wonders of love. Her face broke into an enormous smile and her began to sparkle
as she told me about her husband.Andrew, now gone from this world.
"He was perfect man and treated me like a queen", she told me, looking off in the distance, reliving a memory. "He's gone now, but that's all right. Part of life is accepting that it doesn't go on forever. And I'll be with him again, someday."
"I'm sorry he passed," I said, showing my respect and hoping I didn't bring back painful memories of his death.But Olivia waved my sympathies away.
"Oh it's been quite a while now. I definitely don't need anyone feeling sorry about it," she replied.
Her acceptance of her husband's death intrigued me. I've met many elderly people who live in a state of depression or anger because of the loss of a spouse. But not Olivia.
"How has it been?" I asked.
"Almost sixty years," she replied, her face still serene in memory.
"Sixty years?" He must have been very young!" I said.
"Yes, yes he was. He was thirty five. Had an accident at work. But it was quick, so he didn't suffer. We had been married five years, and we had two babies. It was rough time, but I always knew he was with me, so I made it through."
"Did you ever remarry?" I couldn't imagine being widowed at thirty-three, with two small children.
"Oh no!" Why would I ever do that? I had perfection! There was no need to look for anything else."
I chose my word carefully. "Olivia, I think it is incredible that you are so happy. I mean five years? And you were left alone with two small children? A lot of women would extremely bitter."
With the wisdom only a woman in her nineties can give, Olivia took my hand and looked into my eyes. "Honey, how could I possibly be bitter? At one time in my life, I had something that women search their entire lives for, and many never find. TRUE LOVE. I would have been happy with a single day, but I had it for five entire years! How could I be anything but thankful?"
Olivia is now with her perfect man again, and I'll never forget the smile she wore as she spoke of him on that day. It was the smile of a woman truly in love, love that survived death, love that survived decades.
I think of Olivia's word often, and they make me appreciate that true love is a very precious gift. One day that we all search for, but not all of us are fortunate enough to receive. Although I hope that I can spend sixty years with my husband, I have to accept that I will get" until death do us part." And whether that is for sixty years, or just one day, how can I be anything thankful?
(A short story from my experiences in life)
