Remember The Sweetest Part Of The Notebook? It Just Happened In Real Life

Image courtesy of New Line Cinema.
Remember the sweetest part of the The Notebook? Of course, you do: Allie and Noah, after years together and apart, ultimately pass away in their sleep, holding hands, just after Noah's last words — "I'll be seeing you."

Well, it turns out real-life is just like the movies. After 67 years together, a California couple passed away... hand-in-hand.

The couple, Floyd and Violet Hartwig, who we learned about on ET, have a story uncannily similar to that of our favorite onscreen love story. The sparks first flew for the Fresno-born twosome (who had known of each other since elementary school) in the 1940s, when Floyd was home on leave from the Navy during World War II. The two managed a long-distance relationship while Floyd was deployed in the Pacific, exchanging over 130 letters between 1946 and 1948, until he was honorably discharged after six years in the Navy. 

Remember when Noah says to Allie, "I wrote you every day for a year?" In one instance, Floyd wrote to Violet FIVE times in one day, with sentiments like, "Honey, I'll sure be glad when I get out of this. It sure isn't for me, though at one time I thought the Navy was pretty swell. That was before I fell in love with the sweetest girl in the world." Heart melted. 

Floyd and his beloved "Vi" were married in 1947 and spent 67 glorious years as husband and wife. They managed a 20-acre ranch in the Easton area of Fresno and had three children, four grandchildren, and 10 great-grandchildren."They were good homegrown country folks," their daughter Donna Scharton told The Fresno Bee. She recalled that they often worked side by side, "chopping cotton, feeding turkeys and supporting each other and supporting the children." Their love seemed simple and pure — according to their joint obituary, the family would often eat together at the dinner table and visit under the "big tree" in their front yard.  

In their sunset years, the couple struggled with illness: she (89) with dementia, he (90) with colon and bladder cancer. On February 11, in hospital beds that had been pushed together, the two died within five hours of one another, holding hands as they passed. 

“I think that's what kept them going...that they each had the other one," said Scharton. "They didn't want to go without each other." (The Fresno Bee
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