The Big Sixty
Today is my grandparents' sixtieth wedding anniversary. We threw them a surprise party on Labor Day weekend at their favorite restaurant, and my dad made a nice little speech about how they'd met while working at a dairy, and the unlikeliness of the daughter of Irish immigrants and the son of Italian immigrants getting together.
But my grandfather had decided very early on that she was the one for him, and kept asking her out until she relented. They dated for three years, and towards the end of that time my grandmother's father was dying in the hospital. My grandfather used to shave him. Maybe she knew before that she wanted to marry him, but that kindness really sealed it for her.
I can't imagine being with somebody for sixty years, but I hope someday I'll be lucky enough to find out.