Last night my grandparents (Papa and Carolyn) and I visited Carolyn's cousins in a suburb of Tel Aviv. Simon, from Poland, was liberated by Allied forces from a concentration camp; I saw the camp tattoo on his forearm. His entire family died under the Nazi Final Solution, so Simon made his journey to Israel to start a new life. On his way, he was stopped and held in Cyprus along with thousands of other Holocaust survivors, where he met Rosa. Rosa was 19 and Simon 22.
Simon, now 84, greeted us at the bus stop with all smiles and energy to match a 60 year old. We sat around the table talking, eating fresh dates from their daughter's farm, roasted cashews, dried figs and croissants. Simon was attentive to Rosa, who has just had surgery, with a diligence of obvious enjoyment. When she talked, he listened, looking straight into her eyes, his face of pure adoration, respect and affection. They have been married for 61 years and have never let their passion die.
Seeing these two people so dedicated to each other put me nearly to tears last night. Every person deserves to be loved unconditionally and passionately by their partner. I hope that I am loved by my future husband until the day I die.
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