Loss

I met a lady, one time she was married for 60 years, they were like boyfriends after a long life and 18 children, an odd love. Of these six years, her husband was bedridden and she watched him every day, sitting on the edge of the bed with a third and the prayer book, her faith in recovery was unshakable, so much love she had for him, . After her death, she sat on the bed and her gaze was lost in the closet where her husband's belongings were stored, in four months she gave herself up to depression and died. She used to say, that she would see him again, since it could not be here, it would be there, wherever he was. This poem portrays the case experienced. The intensity of his love impressed me.