I know I normally have an author interview on the first and third Sunday of each month, and I promise, I won’t let you down, I’ve got an interview scheduled for tomorrow – I just couldn’t let one post over-shadow the other.
Today is a very special day. You see, seventy-two years ago, something magical happened.
On a California Naval base, by the power vested in the base chaplain, and witnessed by two close friends, my paternal grandparents were wed. Grandma wore a pale yellow skirt-suit and had a corsage of white carnations, while Grandpa wore his dress uniform.
There is little more romantic, in my mind because it’s part of my story, than my grandparents’ story. I don’t remember all of the details, but I do know that despite their differences, they made it work. For 65 years, they made it work. And they did it without raising their voices, without blow-out fights where someone came back, begging for forgiveness with an epic apology.
I have, in part, modeled the relationship my current MCs, Judy and Max, have on my grandparents because it was simple, sweet, and refreshing. It’s not to say that there weren’t stressors for my grandparents – Grandpa was in the Navy, they moved a lot the first few years, and they had four boys. Four. Yet their marriage survived for 65 amazing years.
And I never once heard them raise their voices with me and my brother – and we fought a lot, it could have easily happened – or with each other. In fact, I don’t even recall hearing them disagree on anything.
They never argued over religion, despite Grandpa being Lutheran and Grandma being Catholic. The thing is… it’s not that they never disagreed – they did, and plenty. They talked about it like rational adults are supposed to do. They discussed their points and listened to each other.
And through it all, they were perfect for, and to, and with, each other. I miss them most this time of year – Grandma passed away on 1/7/2010, the day after my son was born, and Grandpa on 11/2/2010 – but in my children, I see traces of each of them, and in that, I have comfort. My daughter was given Grandma’s quirky little half-smile and generous personality, and my son has Grandpa’s eyebrow-lift and incredible ability to give bone-crushing, breath-stopping hugs. The hugs you never want to end, that you hold on to for just another second longer.
So here’s to the couple who always had a hug, and always wanted to hold on, for just one more second. I’m glad you’re still together, and when my time comes (hopefully not for a good long while yet), I’ll see you on the other side.
I love you, I miss you, and we’ll see each other again.