Saturday was our Nana and Poppa's 60th wedding anniversary. We drove out to Camrose for a BBQ celebration with friends and family and enjoyed a laughter-filled afternoon in the prairie sunshine. It was the perfect day for a party.
I love the story of Red and Fran's romance. He, a young veterinary student in Guleph, she the college receptionist. They got married the day he graduated and honeymooned on the way back to his family's Alberta farm (running out of money and subsisting off of oranges along the way, so I've heard.) I know too little of their story, I wish I had it all written here in front of me. Poppa still tells of the first time he saw her and how she was the sweetest thing he'd ever seen. He knew that he was going to marry her someday. I've talked with my mom recently and often about the very exquisite and obvious love these two shared (and share), Poppa coming home from work tired and dirty, Nana cooking away in the kitchen for a large family and various drop-in friends; he would still always pull her away, sit her down on his lap like a girl and kiss and hold her, openly cherish her like a first love. To me they are the example of marital bliss - best friends, clever communicators, sublime sparring partners and always, delightfully, affectionate.
Mary came to town for the event and I got a deliciously rare chance to hang out with her and our brother Patrick at the same time. Funny how in this context I regress once again into a sly bully, Patrick becomes my clever henchman and then Mary shoots us both down with her confidence and wit. Dammit, she never was good at giving in.
The sibs:
P. Huddy wearing my sunglasses over his glasses. Charmed.
The fam.
No comments:
Post a Comment