...But behind all your stories is always your mother's story, because hers is where yours begins.

A wind blew, and the sand around his drawing scattered. He wrapped his fingers inside his wife's, and Father Time rekindled a connection he had only ever had with her. He surrendered to that sensation and felt the final drops of their lives touch one another, like water in a cave, top meets bottom, Heaven meets Earth.As their eyes closed, a different set of eyes opened, and they rose from the ground as a shared south, up and up, a sun and a moon in a single sky.

Lost love is still love. It takes a different form.

Love is the only rational act.

You live on - in the hearts of everyone you have touched and nurtured while you were here...Death ends life, not a relationship.

She explains that lost love is still love.Life has to end but love doesn't

And I realized when you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.

A heart weighs more when it splits in two

Love is so supremely important. As our great poet Auden said, 'Love each other or perish