Love of a life

This was on the eight of March, three days before my father passed away. Unable to speak clearly from the massive stroke, it was as if my father was attempting to apologize to my mother for divorcing her. He often said he regretted that, but sadly, never made good on that regret to reconcile. My mother, the saint she has always been, never had an unkind word, and said that he was the love of her life.
Amazing love, that one could endure such as she did for so long, and yet, in her heart, remain faithful and loving. Her reward has to be great, it has to be. Grant it Lord Jesus.