50 years

Today is my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. That's a milestone not many couples are fortunate enough to make, for whatever reason.

My grandma is the stereotypical grandmother -- short, a little round, glasses and short gray hair. She's patient and kind, and she's the most amazing cook ever. You could give her the same basic ingredients anyone else uses to make a sandwich -- cheese, lettuce, lunch meat, pepper, regular old bread -- but she'll always wind up with the most amazing sandwich. I decided in high school that she had magic grandma fairy dust that she sprinkled on food to give it that extra Wow! punch.

My grandma has never had a drop of alcohol in her life. Her dad was an alcoholic, so she was terrified she would suffer the same fate if she ever had a drink. She makes Bourbon balls every Christmas, but she makes my grandpa go with her to a liquor store one county over. Then, she makes him go in to buy the Bourbon so people won't see her in a liquor store.

She sews, embroiders, cross stitches, paints, draws and colors amazingly. I used to sit next to her on the couch when I was little and watch her do all these things. She always hummed softly to herself, her ankles crossed and rocking back and forth contentedly.

My grandpa, on the other hand, is a little over 6 foot tall. He's also the typical grandpa -- glasses, bald hair except for the silver hair on the sides of his head, that classic grandpa style of dress.

All the guys in my family golf, and my grandpa is always dressed like he's ready to go play, just in case someone calls. In the summer, he wears khaki or denim shorts with a polo shirt tucked in. You can't forget the belt and the golfer's hat. Most important is his socks, which he wears pulled all the way up to about the middle of his calves. In the winter, he changes it up to khaki pants, but it's still polo shirts and that wickery golfer's hat.

My grandpa always had a little less patience with us than Grandma did. If we were ever acting up, all he had to do was start to move his hand toward his belt, and we would all straighten up.

He always sits in his recliner in their living room. That's Grandpa's chair. When my brother and cousins and I were little, we would sit in his lap and watch TV with him. Sometimes we'd have play wrestling matches on the floor. My grandma was always worried one of us would get hurt, but my grandpa always had a more sensible approach that if one of us got hurt, we shouldn't have been playing so rough.

When I was younger, I wrote a song on the piano about each of my grandparents. I never quite memorized it, as it wasn't the notes themselves that were important. Grandma's song was light and happy and soft, on the higher keys of the piano. Grandpa's was called "Grumpy Grandpa," and it involved several harder hits in the lower range of the piano.

Despite their different patience levels, they have some very important things in common: their love of sweets, their love of God and their love for their family -- especially their grandkids.

My grandma told me a few years ago that when she and my grandpa went through their pre-marital counseling, the preacher told them they shouldn't get married. My grandma had known my grandpa since junior high, though, and although she was only 18, she knew she had found her guy. I'm glad they didn't listen to the preacher with that advice, but I'm especially glad the preacher was wrong.

So Grandma and Grandpa, I hope you two have a wonderful day together. I hope you look back over these 50 years with a smile and excitement for the next 50 years.

I hope someday I'm one of those lucky people who gets to celebrate such a milestone.