Remembering love

My grandfather was born on the 4th of July. He passed away Easter morning of this past spring. It felt strange to not have the traditional birthday get-together for him this year. Even being as tired as I was (I worked the overnight the night before), I found myself thinking of him off and on all day. My grandpa was a really good man. I suppose he was just a regular guy. He was a hard worker, a war vet, a father. He retired at the usual age to do the usual things, putter around the yard, go fishing, play with the grandkids. One of the last of the old world gentlemen, he had a way about him that was just charming. I think the thing about grandpa that I was most in awe of was the way he loved my grandmother. They loved each other in a way that really makes you believe in fairy tales. You know, the happily ever after kind of thing. They were together four days short of 60 years, and they still held hands all the time. I remember the way he would look at her, as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world. I think that kind of love is very rare and special. I know it must have been hard work to have a relationship that wonderful, but they made it look so easy. When I got married, I remember asking what their secret was to have such a happy marriage. Neither could give me a straight answer. They would just look at each other and smile. Oh, they gave me the basics. Don't go to bed angry, always remember how happy you were on your wedding day, take care of each other. I am sure in their mind that is all it takes. But there was something special about the two of them together. I feel lucky to have them for an example to me in my life.