Her name was Grace

But he called her Gracie.

He said it in this tone of voice

Like when a child sees a flower

That had just bloomed in the beginning of spring.

A type of beauty that was only for him.

I never knew the way he looked at her.  

But I could see it in his eyes when he said her name.

She was his true love. The One.

But she went away too soon.

Imprinting us all with the pink ribbon on our chests.

 

And when he was losing his memory.

And we showed him a picture of her.

He looked at her for a moment

And we all shook with anxiety

Begging his mind.

But we didn't need to worry because

He described her as if it were the present.

As if it weren't 50 years later.

He would smile softly and say,

Without any hesitation:

That's my Gracie, wasn’t she beautiful.

 

And when he went

And it broke our hearts.

Not only because we love him

But because we also love her.

And maybe something hurt inside

Because he was my last connection to her

And to their impossible romance,

Their great love that wouldn't die

Even if they did.