My parents were married for 55 years. One morning, my mom was going downstairs to make dad breakfast, she had a heart attack and fell. My father picked her up as best he could and almost dragged her into the truck. At full speed, without respecting traffic lights, he drove her to the hospital, When he arrived, unfortunately, she was no longer with us. During the funeral, my father did not speak; his gaze was lost. He hardly cried.

That night, his children joined him. In an atmosphere of pain and nostalgia, we remembered beautiful anecdotes and he asked my brother, a theologian, to tell him where Mom would be at that moment. My brother began to talk about life after death, and guesses as to how and where she would be. My father listened carefully. Suddenly he asked us to take him to the cemetery. Dad!” we replied, “it’s 11 at night, we can’t go to the cemetery right now! ”He raised his voice, and with a glazed look he said: “Don’t argue with me, please don’t argue with the man who just lost his wife of 55 years. ”True Love There was a moment of respectful silence, we didn’t argue anymore. We went to the cemetery, we asked the night watchman for permission. With a flashlight, we reached the tomb. My father caressed her, prayed, and told his children, who watched the scene moved: “It was 55 years… you know? No one can talk about true love if they have no idea what it’s like to share life with a woman.