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At 14, my grandpa had a boyscout trip to Britany, france. He met my grandma near a fountain, they exchanged their address and started communicating.
They exchanged letter for ten years. In the meanwhile, she had married a man and had a child. But the husband unfortunately died of tuberculosis.
So they met 10 years later, at the same fountain, and he brought her to belgium to spend their life together.
RIP bonne maman you were the best
rant