Courtesy of JewishSacredAging.com

Yes, I know that Valentine's Day has come and gone and the flowers and candy have all been eaten or tossed. All the more reason to relate this story, as it keeps the flame of life and love alive, albeit in a sad embrace.

Last week, I had the honor of officiating at the funeral of a coworker's mom. She was in her late 80s, and her health had deteriorated in very recent months. As many clergy do, I went to visit the family the day before the ceremony to gather impressions and information that I would use to craft the eulogy. In most cases, this time with the family is a combination of laughter and tears defined by their stories and recollections. You learn a lot by just listening and observing (trade secret!). Then again, every once in a while, you come across a family and a story that stands out, reminding you of what really is important in life.

I sat at the dining room table of this family, surrounded by my friend, the daughter, her brother, grandchildren, and, of course, the husband. We talked, and they quickly volunteered that this man and woman had been married for 64 years. So, of course, I had to ask the husband the secret to this marriage.

Was it the development of varied interests or shared exploits or business? No, he just looked at me and said simply, "The secret was that we were very much in love." He then detailed the story of when he and his wife had met (he was 18, she was 16) and how they learned that the concept of compromise was the glue that held their love together.

The family next chimed in with stories of how these two people, simply and without fanfare, modeled what it was like to be with another human being for over six decades and remain passionate and "in" love. So much was made of this that one of the grandchildren related a story that took place just a week before his grandmother's death. The husband visited his wife in the nursing home and, when it was time to say goodnight, leaned over and gave her a kiss, to which the wife declared to the nurse in the room: "See, he still knows how to make love."

I mention this story because, in today’s world, when romance is commercialized and love commodified, here is a story of two people who understood that the greatest gift that a relationship can have is the simple, but utterly complicated gift of love.

The more I learned about this couple, the more it became obvious that it was the simple things that kept their marriage flourishing to the end. Mutual respect born from a love that was allowed to grow and mature was their simple recipe for a life well lived. A life, as this husband said, in which he had "no regrets."

These were modest people. No fame or great, world-shaking accomplishments. Just two people who dedicated their lives to each other, built a business, raised a family, and tried to enjoy the gift of life as much as possible. The kind of people who cement a country and a community while living a life of love and respect, so that even in death, the surviving spouse could look his family in the eye and, with tears, smile in the warm embrace of a love that, he knows, can never die.

The lesson? Simple. In this complicated, information-laden world, it is still love that binds people and families together and creates the memories that carry us into our future.

Shalom.