Old-Age Romeo and Juliet

"She was my little girl," sobbed the man whom I'd never seen cry before.

My 86-year-old grandfather was devastated when his beloved wife of 44 years passed away. So devastated that he joined her a mere four days later. Is it possible that he willed himself to have that heart attack? Or was his broken heart simply unable to beat without her beside him?

Next April, it will have been 20 years since their deaths. I still think of them so very often. They had been in their forties when my dad was born, so they were a generation older than most of my friends' grandparents. Although their minds were sharp as a tack, they had worked hard all their lives and their bodies had started to become frail and troublesome to them. They may not have been the most physically active grandparents, but they were good people of strong character. I learned much about right and wrong, love, loyalty, and respect from them.

So although it saddened us all to lose both of them virtually at the same time, it wasn't all that surprising that one couldn't live without the other.

In the nearly twenty years since their passing, I occasionally come across stories of other couples who have felt the same way. We are inundated with divorces and infidelities that are reported in the media, but there are those who persevere and who need, love, and want each other despite the tolls of decades.

Ben Folds found just the right words to describe this love in his song, "The Luckiest." Without fail, I cannot help but visualize my grandparents every time I play that song. And when I read stories of others who loved one another so greatly, I can't help but smile that some find a way to stay together, even in the afterlife.

I was young and in college when my grandparents passed away. When I looked at them, I saw the wrinkles and gray hair. But they didn't. To him, she would always be his "little girl," young and vibrant, the way she looked when they met.