My grandfather died a few years ago, a couple months after he and my grandmother celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. What my grandfather left behind was a family that missed him more than words could ever convey and the second half of a brilliant love story. He left behind a marriage that thrived on love and happiness. He left behind a marriage that was the strongest I've ever seen. It was the kind of marriage that each time you looked at them you felt as though you were stealing a minute of their time as if each second you’d look the clock would move a little faster, tick a little louder.
Love and happiness are what makes us human, they are emotions that are justified and reinforced by the minds of other humans. My grandparents taught me that marriage isn’t a power struggle but rather the privilege of waking up each morning to your best friend in the entire world, a chance to not go through life all alone. Marriage should be between two people who are not just in love with one another but who are also unequivocally devoted to one another; by this definition, I can’t think of a better marriage than my grandparents.
A week or so after my grandfather’s death I stumbled across a word that I thought epitomized my grandfather’s devotion to my grandmother. Ya’aburnee an Arabic word, both morbid and beautiful at once, means “You bury me,” a declaration of one’s hope that they’ll die before another person because of how difficult it would be to live without them. There is no doubt in my mind that if my grandfather had known this word he’d have said it a thousand times and thought it a million.
A few days after he had passed my grandmother looked at me with a bittersweet look and said quietly “we had a hell of a ride, and I hope everyone is as lucky as I was”. I knew she meant this with every ounce of herself because they really did have a hell of a ride. Over the years, my grandparents had three kids and eight grandchildren and have been to countless countries together. They walked the streets of Paris hand in hand, ate in restaurants with the Swiss Alps as the backdrop, went whale watching, and posed smiling in Disney Land and walked in the shadows of the giant redwood forest.
Born into the generation of Tinder and the hook-up culture, I crave a love like my grandparents had. Pure love, untouched by social media, and the expectations of a generation that doesn't really understand love. My generation measures their worth in likes, and favorites, and track who their significant other is snap chatting and messaging on Facebook. I crave a simpler love.
The truth is that the majority of us are going to get married within the next decade and it’s not going to be easy and it’s probably not going to be simple. Marriage is hard, and it will test every patience you have. But I’m lucky I was able to see a truly remarkable marriage, a marriage that always appeared effortless even when it probably wasn’t. A marriage that made you believe in all the movies and all the books. So here's to my grandparents. Miss you everyday Papa.
