I went to a wedding recently. It had the normal ingredients: the beautiful bride, the handsome, young groom, mother of the bride who was worrying about everything, father of the bride opening his pocketbook to pay the caterer, a darling little ring bearer, who right on cue proudly presented the pillow with rings tied to it, a wonderful luncheon. It was all there. My favorite part of this event was when those of us seated around the luncheon tables were asked to introduce ourselves. Now normally this is not my favorite part, but for good reason, this time it was. When it came time for the grandma of the bride to introduce herself, she stood. This is a lady who is nearly eighty years old, but she’s still got it all together, spunky and so cute. She said, "I’m mother of the father of the bride, grandma to the bride, and great-grandma to the baby (infant son of the bride and groom). Then her husband, who was sitting next to her rose, and he said quite simply as he looked at his wife with obvious love and admiration, "I’m her husband."
That grandma and grandpa are what love is all about.
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