Love doesn’t ask for permission — not from age, nor from the world’s judgment. For Mart Soeson, a 48-year-old lawyer from Estonia, it meant standing by the side of Elfriede Riit, his 104-year-old partner, until her final breath in a Sydney nursing home.

Their story began in the most unexpected way — decades apart in age, but deeply connected in spirit. Elfriede, who had once been married to Mart’s grandfather, fled Estonia after World War II and built a quiet life in Australia. When Mart arrived to study English, she opened her home — and over time, her heart. What began as friendship became a bond neither could deny. “She made me happy in a way no one else could,” Mart once said.

When Elfriede’s health began to fade, Mart never left her side. He brought her chocolate and berries, attended chapel services, and held her hand through long nights haunted by wartime memories. Their love wasn’t about appearances or approval — it was about loyalty, laughter, and the quiet comfort of being truly seen.

Before she passed, Elfriede folded her hands on her chest, said goodbye, and slipped peacefully away. For Mart, it was the end of a chapter — but the memory of their love, he says, will live “beyond time itself.”