My story is that of love. Love in the most raw, realest way that you can imagine. My mother met and married her husband at age 40. Prior to this everything she was, her heart, mind, soul,and body was subjected to everything and anything terrifying you can think of. However she rose above it and still put her all into this thing we call love. Marrying this man set her free, it allowed her to finally be her real self. She could now take off her mask and armor, because this man was here to save her. Unfortunately something this beautiful can only last so long. To an outsider hearing the news of being diagnosed with ovarian cancer would bring you literally to your knees. Not this couple, the love they had was strong enough to endure whatever was due to come their way. Some would use these last precious moments to grow stronger together, and live each moment like you were dying. This couple already lived everyday that way, not once did they take one another for granted. My mother died within a year of being diagnosed. Now this is where the meaning of true love comes into play. This man took on a single woman of three “mixed” girls. He grew up with something we never did stability, money, a college education. Our family on the other hand grew up on what some might call the other side of the track. Not once did he ever look down upon us, he embraced all of us so effortlessly. He was the only person that stood by my mother and us. Not even our biological dad could weather this storm. Words cannot explain the bravery, strength, and emotion that he showed when my mother passed. Somehow seeing him so brave but yet be able to sob relentless tears, I knew we were going to be okay. My mothers husband does not know what a blessing he was. Especially to come at a time when she was the lowest, and actually see us through that low point. This my friends is a real man, a hero, a role-model.