Wednesday, 15 December 2010
As part of my subconsciousness’ never-forget-a-date plan, I have to point out that today is my grandparents’ 64th wedding anniversary. Though still far short of the record for longest marriage, I still think they have achieved quite a feat – good for them. Hopefully, at some future date, I will be writing here to note that they have entered the record books.
They were married on the same day as the Byzantine sack of the Vandals (though not the same year!) in New York. After a pit-stop in Minnesota (which lasted 3 decades) they now reside in Florida. They have five kids, seven grandkids, and nine great-grandkids (well, Owen and Isla are two super great-grandkids, but I won’t get hung up on technicalities).
Every year since I can remember, I sent them a card on their anniversary. When I sent one in 2008, I never received any sort of response (neither did Owen; he had enclosed a drawing for them). So, I’ll say here what they evidently don’t want to hear via snail mail: Congratulations! I should be so lucky to one day see my children and my children’s children grown into adulthood.
Here’s a picture of them with their kids. Don’t let the date on the photo fool you – it’s wrong, as camera calendars notoriously are. The picture is about a year old, taken during a party for my Dad and Stepmom’s tenth wedding anniversary. The kids are lined up in age order (or would that be reverse-age order?); my Dad is the friendly-looking one, second from the right:
Ah, Nana and Papa. I miss them. I can’t believe they’ve married 64 years. That’s a really long time.
I miss them, too. Luckily, they’re in town right now, so maybe we should give them a call!