I’ve always wondered if I would know what true love was when I came across it.

The other night I went to the movies and saw a movie, a movie in which the two actors truly seemed to be in love, a love so pure and so wonderful it could surpass any and all obstacles…

And so it made me think about true love while I was on my drive home in the rain. I came in the door and my grandmother, who had been staying at my house for the past week, was framing a picture of me that she wanted for her table at home. My mom had just printed up a ton of pictures for her off of the computer, and she was very excited about them.

“I can never have too much of my grandchildren, come, come look at my photo album.” She tells me.

Her temporary photo album for the time being was the current book she was reading… and as we flipped through she showed me each picture, tucked away on a different page. When we got the very end of the book she stopped.

There on the last page was a picture of my grandfather. She took out the picture and kissed it and told me that she always used him as a bookmark. Well not bookmarks per say, but an endnote.

He was an endnote because she always took this picture and put it on the very last page of each new book she started. Because when he was still alive the first thing she did was talk about the book with him after she finished it.

And now, with his picture always at the end, it is almost like he is still there, waiting to hear her tell him about the book when she is done. Tears well up in her eyes as she tells me this, and I want to hold her frail, old little body and let her cry, and let her tell me all about him, and how wonderful and romantic, and beautiful their love and life was together. But she wipes her eyes and sits down to finish framing her picture, and the moment passes.

She misses him more than anything, and there is no doubt in my mind that their love was true in the truest sense possible.

And I know he is watching her from up in heaven.