Today would have been my grandparents' 70th wedding anniversary.
I'm not entirely sure why I remember this fact. We generally don't celebrate anniversaries much in my family, not even our own. February 18th was almost always a quiet day. The only one of my grandparents' anniversaries that I remember doing anything for, even so much as sending a card, was their 50th.
And my, wasn't that a shindig - a giant party at one of their favorite restaurants, complete with scores of people I was told I was related to. I'd never met most of them before, to my knowledge, and I haven't seen any of them since, but we had a grand time anyway.
As the oldest grandchild, I was drafted to be The Escort for my cousin Paula, who fit quite well into Nana's wedding dress. Keith told me about this on the drive over. "Didn't anyone tell you?" he asked. Well, no, as a matter of fact, nobody did. Oh well. Good thing my role - as with that of any groom at a real wedding - was simply to stand relatively straight and try not to do anything to distract people from the lady in white.
There were a lot of pictures taken that day - a LOT of pictures, even by my inflated standards - but my favorite was one someone snapped of Nana and Pop Pop at about the moment Paula and I emerged. It's not a great picture by most standards - dark and a bit too full of people to have any real focus. Nana has her head turned, looking at Pop. Pop just looks starstruck, lost in memory.
I really love that picture.
They were married for 61 years. Tabitha and Lauren know them as characters in stories, faces in photographs, but I remember them as my grandparents.
Happy Anniversary, Nana and Pop.