My grandpa told me this at thanksgiving dinner a few years back (obviously paraphrased, but this is as good as I remember it):

“I went to Finnish center the other day and was eating lunch next to some woman. We started talking, and she noticed my veterans hat, so the conversation led to the war. She told me she lost her fiance at the time in the war, and they never found his body. She immediately moved accross the country, and just recently moved back home to be near her family. I told her I was also engaged before the war and when I came home and our apartment was rented to new people, I figured she left me for another man while I was gone.

We looked at each other, and she asked me my name. And there I was. . . sitting next to my first love, decades later, at a random Sunday luncheon. We both cried.”