After the funeral, my grandfather hugged me. And I’ll never forget what he said. He told me that he had just buried the love of his life, the most important thing in the world to him, and that it hurt like hell. He said he probably wouldn’t ever be the same. But then he looked me straight in the eyes; he said that his time with her was something he would never trade, that it was the only thing worth living for. He told me to find that. He told me that once I had that, nothing else would be as important. And he said once I found it, to cherish it and never let it go.
Mouths lie. Eyes don’t.