My Grandma Asked Me to Find Her High School Sweetheart So She Could Dance One Last Dance with Him

to protect her,” I said softly. “Just in different ways.”

Henry stood beside us holding the old prom photograph.

And as I watched him look at it, I understood something I would carry forever.

Love does not always disappear with time.

Sometimes it waits quietly.

In letters.

In songs.

In unfinished dances.

Until someone is brave enough to bring it home.