Another day, another side of the family, and the contrasts of life. Today we celebrated my grandparents’ 50th wedding anniversary. Through it all they’ve been together–three kids, seven grand kids, and fifty years of ploughing fields and fixing suppers. Grandpa’s hand was shaking Sunday morning as they were called to the front of the church for a special presentation.
My Grandma & Grandpa–the most typical grandparents you can imagine. Grandpa always with his white straw hat, driving his pickup truck down to the river or into the watermelon patch. Grandma always selfless, dishing up a bowl of ice cream at night or offering bacon and eggs for breakfast, but always concerned with so much more. The two are so loving and caring of everyone. Even though I’m 700 miles away they keep up with the events of my life, always remembering me in their prayers.
Fifty years. That’s a long time. Partnership. Cooperation. God. These are the things they mentioned when asked how they did it. And before leaving the front of the church Sunday morning, Grandpa reached for the microphone, saying he had something to say to all the young people, “Being married for fifty years is really cool!”