One neat part of my work today involved taking photos at a nursing home. Including this couple.

They will have been married for 65 years in July, but they love each other like a couple of teenagers. Constantly blowing each other kisses, looking at each other, flirting, smiling, laughing, holding hands.

It was so sweet, they had me in tears.

When you ask one how he or she is doing: “We’re having a great day.”
Not “I’m having a great day.”
We’re having a great day.

They do everything together. But I learned that one half of this “we” is dying.

I really cried when I heard that. What happens to someone after 65 years together? How does half of “we” suddenly become an “I”? Is it even possible?

But as I’ve looked back through their pictures, I’ve decided that I’m going to focus on how two people manage to keep sparks flying after 65 years.