My Grandpa will be turning 90 this year. He lost his wife of 66 years, my dear Grandma, last fall. Grandpa is still in good health; he keeps a nice garden and follows the Sacramento Kings.
The last time he went to the doctor, the doctor told him about one of his patients, who at 92, was widowed and two weeks later married an old childhood sweetheart. They lived together for ten years before he died.
My dad asked Grandpa what he thought of this. Grandpa said he could never see himself with another woman; for him there was only and only ever will be Grandma. She was a wonderful woman. They traveled the world together, raised three kids, seven grandchildren and two great-grandkids. All that is given. But what worries Grandpa is what happens after - in heaven.
"What would I say to her when we meet again?" he asked my dad.
I'm not sure what charms me more - the idea that he expects to see her again, or the the image of the two of them, reunited once more.
The last time he went to the doctor, the doctor told him about one of his patients, who at 92, was widowed and two weeks later married an old childhood sweetheart. They lived together for ten years before he died.
My dad asked Grandpa what he thought of this. Grandpa said he could never see himself with another woman; for him there was only and only ever will be Grandma. She was a wonderful woman. They traveled the world together, raised three kids, seven grandchildren and two great-grandkids. All that is given. But what worries Grandpa is what happens after - in heaven.
"What would I say to her when we meet again?" he asked my dad.
I'm not sure what charms me more - the idea that he expects to see her again, or the the image of the two of them, reunited once more.