These are my grandparents on my Dad’s side, my Pop was so handsome and my Nan was such a fox it seems a shame I never knew them while they were in their prime.
Theirs is the type of relationship I would define as perfect, they loved each other even though sometimes they bickered, every single night they would watch the news while eating dinner and then Nan would wash up and Pop would wipe up after the news and dinner were finished.
They stuck by each other for richer and poorer, sickness and in health. Nan sat by Pop every single day when he became sick, it was taking a lot of energy she didn’t have the most of it, but she didn’t complain once. She looked after him when he needed it especially when he’d say he didn’t want it.
I remember everything so vividly about the day my Pop passed away, but one moment of that day hit me harder than a hurricane and I’ve still never been able to shake it, watching my Nan walk through the door of her house and collapsing into the arms of her two children in a ball of tears.
In the loungeroom at Nan’s house his ashes are in an urn in her cabinet she always put her favourite things us grandkids would get her and every single day, just like she did every single day before he was gone, she tells him about all the things she’s worried about and things she’s happy about and anything else she can think of. My brothers aren’t too sure if that’s healthy but I know better.
That is what love is.