OUR VALENTINES DAY

Yesterday would have been my Grandmothers 120 birthday.  It was also the 49^th anniversary of our wedding engagement.  The engagement party was held at the parent’s home of my then-to-be bride.  The small, white 3 bed room, 2 baths, 2 story abode had that lived-in look that 2 parents and 9 children tend to give a home.   As you can imagine there was always a crowded feeling, which can be a boost to a good party. 

It was wall to wall people as our two Irish Catholic families were meeting for the first time.  My Grandmother, whose most recent claim to fame was making the papers for being arrested for turning the hose on a family who tried to steal her spot on the beach in front of her Balboa Island home, was on her best behavior.  In her younger days Helen, in the finest of Irish tradition, would enjoy a cocktail or four.  I say enjoy because she would, while those around her paid the price.  That was in the past and we had all grown to love the kinder, gentler Helen, although those who knew her best were always on guard.

People were getting to know each other, good food was followed by a toast from the father of the bride-to- be and all was going swimmingly.  About that time a member of the family of the bride-to-be, who shall remain nameless, decided to walk through the center of the living room balancing his toddler child on his hand extended high in the air.  Helen lost it.  She came unglued as she tried to wrest the child from its Dad.  She called him everything in the book, the kindest of which was “You damned fool”.  After several of us restrained her things calmed down.  Contrary to what you might think this incident did not create any ill will.  It actually endeared her to both sides and the story has become a special part of family lore. 

Forty nine years later Terry and I enjoyed a quiet dinner alone in our home.  She found some New York steaks that were on sale, baked 2 potatoes, added some mixed vegetables and tossed a beautiful green salad.  She topped the meal off with my favorite dessert, heated bread pudding served in a bowl with a little milk. 

I had given her some flowers which she arranged in a glass vase on our coffee table.  I had looked everywhere for roses but being a last minute shopper, they were all gone.  I got an assortment of green, yellow and orange stuff I can’t name, from Trader Joe’s.  Next to the vase was a red, heart shaped candle she had lit. 

We sat on the couch, watching a re-run of the Grammy’s.  During the course of the day we had heard from each of our four kids.  Each told us of their plans for the evening.  As always there was great contentment in knowing those we love are doing what makes them happy with those they love. 

Forty nine years later the feeling is still the same.