78 years of marriage: Andreas and Sofia’s secret
Andreas laughed.
« No. It’s part of it. But there’s more. »
He looked at Sofia.
« The secret is that every morning, when I woke up next to her, I chose to love her again. Not because it was easy. Not because I was always happy. But because she was my choice. And I continued to choose. Every day. For seventy-eight years. »
Then he looked at the boy.
« And if one day you find someone who makes you want to choose every morning… don’t let them go. Never. Because love isn’t what you feel. It’s what you choose. Every day. Even when it’s difficult. »
A dance in the empty living room
That evening, after everyone had left, Andreas and Sofia remained alone in the living room.
The cake was almost finished.
The candles were out.
The house was silent.
Andreas looked at Sofia.
« You know what? »
« What is it, old man? »
« I wouldn’t change a thing. Not a single day. Not a single argument. Not a single night without dinner. »
Sofia smiled.
» Me neither. «
Andreas stood up with difficulty.
He offered her his hand in marriage.
« Shall we dance? »
Sofia looked at him.
« Dancing? Andreas, we can barely walk. »
« It doesn’t matter. I just want to hug you. »
She took his hand.
And there, in the empty room, with the music from the radio playing softly, they danced.
Slowly.
Awkwardly.
Perfectly.
Just like the first day.
Like every day.
As during the last seventy-eight years.
And when the music stopped, Andreas kissed her on the forehead.
« I love you, Sofia. »
« I love you too, Andreas. »
« Tomorrow too? »
« Tomorrow too. »
« And the following day? »
« And the past. »
« And always? »
» Always. «
And they went to bed.
Hand in hand.
As always.
As they had done for seventy-eight years.
And as they would do until life separated them.
But even then…
Love would remain.
Morality
True love is not what you feel when everything is perfect.
That’s what you choose when everything is difficult.
It’s not the absence of problems.
It’s the presence of someone who doesn’t give up.
And sometimes, the greatest love…
It is not the one who shouts.
He’s the one who stays.
Each day.
For seventy-eight years.
Hand in hand.
