I think my husband and I had true love. After we were married for 37 years, he died of cancer at home, and I took care of him. Now I’ll give you too much information:
Right after the first visit of the hospice nurse and meeting all the people who’d be helping, they all left. Darling Robert said, “Is the house empty? Is everyone gone? Are we alone?”
I assured him we were alone.
“Great!” he said, “Now take off all your clothes.”
My husband was right to believe in my love for him, because I would always do anything for him. I was right to trust him with my heart and soul, because he would do anything for me. We just got lucky, finding each other. And lucky time, the time when you are with the right person, goes too fast. 37 years isn’t long, believe me.