Sometimes things work out the way you want them to. Perfect, in a kind of sunset way.
from the Birmingham News; "Their love story spanned six and half decades, beginning when Raymond first spotted Mary at a Fairfield bakery where she worked. He was immediately smitten, but she was popular and he had to work for her affections. He used to hide in the bushes when she had other dates, friends said, to assess his competition."
The full story can be read here.
Some will resist, and live with the memories until the time comes, comes later.
Others will know to their core that it's time to go, because one end can't be complete with out the other end.
It makes it easy to see the true face of love, stories like this-at first Indrid gave an evil little smile at the story-old lady croaks on top of her husband at his funeral-two for one sale.
Then the pristine beauty of such a thing was made clear in a flash to him, and it became a story that affirms by it's very recounting of deaths in tandem the power of love in one's life.
There is a point in your life when you stop, and you look up and realize you have never truly seen what happens when the sun sets before.
Later, if you are wise and searching and open, you make the same opportunity for the dawn.
They become emblematic of the simple perfection of being here, in your now. Emblematic of the symmetries in our existence that remain, never change.
So the story is perfect, in spite of the sadness that might attend it for some.
Perfect, in that sunset sort of way.
