It wasn’t until my Grandfather died and my Grandmother virtually joined him in the grave that what Miss Ellis had told me made sense.
She was older than my Grandparents had been, yet was active, capable.
Miss Ellis had chosen never to love anyone so much that their death would take her soul.
It wasn’t a lack of choice, she had been married. She could have married again for she was, in those old pictures, quite attractive.
But she didn’t.
Her fear was that she would love someone to the extent they became part of her and she couldn’t live without them.