My co-worker's elderly mother passed away this week from a prolonged battle with Alzheimer's.
One afternoon, my co-worker received the call from her sister-in-law and began to make preparations to attend the funeral.
And while it was clear this was a very difficult, very painful, very raw time, she shared a beautiful insight on the later chapters of love:
"Mama was on her last leg," she said, "and towards the end, she wasn't eating, she no longer recognized anyone...we all knew it was her time.
"But Daddy, well, every time he held Mama's hand, her heart would pick up again. Her pulse would get faster. Every time. It was incredible. He just sat there, hour after hour, holding her hand. And her heart kept beating.
"And Daddy just sat there--despite all those who told him to take a break, or get some rest--he wouldn't take his hand from hers. He couldn't.
"Finally, with Mama asleep, he finally agreed to the many urges to unwind his fingers from hers and take a shower.
"And it was then--that short window of time--that Mama finally passed away. I think she just needed him to let her go."
For all who grieve this week, a reminder that Love does not end.
That you will be comforted.
And that death is not the end of the Story.