He had been living without her now for 23 years, and everyone wondered how. He still demanded that we set her a place at the dinner table, even sometimes serving her a small portion and spooning it delicately into the air. He never let us give away her clothes, or throw away her expired makeup, or even fix the crooked family photo that she had hung when they bought the house so long ago. He spoke to her aloud as though she was a part of every conversation, frequently reminding us not to leave her out of our discussions.

There had been many times in the last 23 years when we thought we were going to lose him too. Month-long hospital stays, bed rest and oxygen tanks. Mom had the funeral home on speed-dial, all of his arrangements made. She even knew what songs would be played at the service. She’d known for 15 years.

I remember Mom saying to him once, when he was just barely clinging on to life, “We’ll be ok, if you’re ready to go home to Susanna, you can go.” He had chuckled hoarsely, his breath shallow but his face alight, “Let me ask Susie and see what she thinks,” then a moment of silence, followed by, “She said it’s not time to go yet.”

Today, we gathered around his bedside, Mom toting a German-chocolate cake in her arms with three candles on it- a one and two zeros. We weren’t going to light them, I knew. Even if Grandpa somehow had the strength to blow them out, he had never liked that tradition. He once joked that the 9 candles on my backyard birthday cake would start a forest fire if I wasn’t careful. Uncle Rod tried to set a gift down on the bed, but grandpa started coughing horrendously, shaking the bed and tightening Mom’s grip on the cake. He wagged a crooked finger at Rod, whispering as he regained his breath, “You should know that spot is for Susie.” Everything was always for Susie.

Once the song was sung, the cake cut and gift bags strewn on the floor, the family spilled out and mingled around the house, and I found my way to Grandpa’s bedside. He was gripping the bedsheets of the empty place next to him, the place where his wife always used to sleep. He smiled as he twirled the fabric back and forth between his fingers. I crouched down next to the bed and put my hand on his shoulder, waiting patiently until he rolled slightly over to look up at me.

“Grandpa,” my voice was hushed as to not beckon the rest of the family back into the room, “Why have you stuck around for all these years without Grandma, when you miss her so much?”

His eyes wrinkled closed and he tapped his chin with a pondering smile. “Your grandmother has never really been gone, you know,” he said, and I leaned closer to make out the words, “She just didn’t need to be on earth right now is all. She been telling me all these years that my time isn’t done yet. I don’t know what she means, but she’s my sweetheart and I trust her with my life.”

I felt goosebumps wash over me. It’s true that people wisen with age, and somehow even the simplest things begin to mean more when they’re said by someone who has lived one hundred years. I tried to push back tears, but I couldn’t help but let a few trickle down my face. I squeezed Grandpa’s hand again, his face now out of focus in my watery eyes.

“Maybe the reason you needed to stay,” I said solemnly, “Was to teach all of us what true love really means.”

Grandpa’s eyes had closed, and a deep snore began to build up in his throat. He was asleep, but even still, his thin lips were curled into a peaceful smile that told me everything I needed to know.

Grandpa passed away that evening. After 23 years, he was finally reunited with his dear Susanna. I can’t even imagine what the reunion must have been like. Or maybe, it was just like any other day for them. A couple who had never truly been apart, despite the physical separation. I think about them often, and what Grandpa said about trusting her with his life, even years after she had died. I told myself I’ll never settle for a love less than that, and I never have. We needed Grandpa here those last 23 years to teach us all that true unconditional love does not know mortal bounds, and that we all deserve to feel that ethereal sort of love that transcends the boundaries of time.