My father's parents haven't been happy together – at least for more than five minutes at a time – since I was aware of what happiness meant. That's been a long time, friends.
They started out romantically enough. They got married on a snowy Christmas Day in North Carolina. Grampy rented a sleigh to pick up his intended, and they got married before a justice of the peace. He worked for the phone company, and was part of a team that wired Puerto Rico for phone service in the late 1970s. They had three children – my dad is the oldest. Then my uncle and finally aunt were born. Pictures depict a happy family life, frought with relatives fresh off the farm, large family reunions, fried corn bread and lots of meat and vegetables.
Somewhere along the way, maybe even from the beginning, Grammy and Grampy stopped getting along. Back in their day, getting married was an expected thing after a certain period of courting. That's no longer the case these days, of course, because we live in different times and are much different people. Few of us grew up on farms.
The bickering and short tempers weren't put on hold for their 50th wedding anniversary, about 15 or so years ago. I was a sophomore in high school, and we were back in Virginia from Texas to visit and celebrate that occassion. There was ice and snow on the ground that day, and the blessed event was conducted in a nice room below street level in Fredericksburg (my hometown). But it wasn't a happy time. Celebrated, yes. Happy? Not really. How disappointing. The neatness of it having snowed on their 50th anniversary, just as it did on their wedding day, was lost in a volley of deep sighs and veiled insults.
Flash forward to 2004. My aunt is divorced, her grown children running amuck, and she's moved in with Grammy and Grampy to help care for them. We're not sure how she is doing this, what with a full-time job outside the home, but it seemed to work (from a distance) for a little while. Grampy is diabetic and requires regular medicine and blood-sugar checks.
He is not stable on his feet anymore, what with medical conditions and the fact he's dragging 80 heavily behind him. He has fallen before, but the last time, he fell into the bathtub and was unable to get out for hours. By the time my aunt got home, he had managed to get out and get into his bed. But a telltale bruise on his head was his reward for imbalanced steps. It was enough.
Grampy now receives 24-hour care in a private, 5-bed assisted living home. From my aunt's accounts, he has dropped 10 years from his weak body, is calm and happy and well cared for. Grammy is going nuts, but this was happening for the past 60 years. The recent turn of events notwithstanding, she's still nutty. It won't be long, I imagine, before she kicks off to the great beyond, or makes everyone around her wish she had.
Was it all worth it? The years of fighting and losing patience with each other? Let the survivors tell the tale. Two of the three children have been married (my uncle's nuptials lasted but a year) and divorced. The oldest, my dad, will be married 38 years this June. His two children are currently happily married. My uncle has no children. My aunt's oldest son has been married and divorced once, and engaged two other times (scheduled to be hitched this fall; we'll see). Her youngest son (at age 28) may or may not ever have had a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Not that there's anything's wrong with that.
There are two great-grandchildren, my sister's 5-year-old son, and my 1-year-old. If carrying a name is important, the Cutlet is the sole heir to our last name from this branch (so far). To me, it's a legacy of love and caring and God-fearingness that matters. The name's not all that important. I was the sole heir for our leg of the family for 29 years, but I wasn't necessarily the favorite grandson.
I look at my son – his quick smile, his openness, his fearlessness – and say that my grandparents' sleigh ride and the rocky years that follow are worth it. I look into his eyes and know the future won't be so bad. I look into my wife's eyes – nutty as she may be – and I know our 50th wedding anniversary (God willing we both live to see it) will be a happy time with family and friends, celebrating what we hope has been a lifetime of love. We'll surf the trials together and hope the waves don't crash down too hard.
It rained on our April wedding day. I'll be sure to pack an umbrella in 45 years.
The legacy they are leaving appears to be having a positive effect on you. You make a concious choice to lead a different life. I believe you know this life is a gift.
That's a sad story. My daughter calls my parents "grammy" and "grampy." They got divorced a couple of years ago after 40 years of unhappily married.
my grandparents did/do the same thing! is it just an old person thing? after being together for so long? they would bicker about weather the sky was blue. but they would still be nice to one another. it wasn't all bickering...a large part of it though. family is so cool. to see where you came from...and how you contribute...it's beautiful!
Old wives say it's bad luck to have rain on your wedding day; I think the reverse! It rained on our wedding day too--35 years ago next week. I have a lot more faith in grace than luck.
Wow - your grandparents sound like my parents.... who are slowly draining the life out of one another.
But my parents won't even consider divorce - they believe it's God's will for them to stay together and they'll burn in hell if they separate.
Oh well.
I hope your grandparents find some semblance of peace and happiness.
What a sad story. I have a few of those in my family tree as well. Family lore has it that some great uncle and aunt of mine would work their problems out like this- he'd say something nasty, and she'd smile pleasantly in response- while adding copious amounts of sugar to dinner. (He was a diabetic.) Happy old people are an inspiration, and at least one set of my grandparents fit that description.
Well, as always, you found a positive slant on that story- the Cutlet is definitely a good outcome, even from an unhappy marriage of his great grandparents.