We drove out to their home, the one they’ve lived in for 55 years. The one they’ve raised four children in and hosted countless Christmas and Thanksgiving parties in. The home where my Grandpa has a woodshop in the basement and their fridge tells their life’s story in magnets from all of the places they’ve been on a lifetime of vacations together

As we sat down to enjoy a meal together in their wood-panelled dining room, Grandpa lovingly put a plate of food together for Grandma before getting his own. They sat side by side at the table and Scott and I sat across from them. It felt like we were glimpsing our future selves, watching them together. They were celebrating 65 years married and I asked them to tell me again how it all began. They smiled at each other as they shared about being young and falling in love. About my Grandpa’s service in the navy in WWII and my Grandma’s work in a mill in town. Grandpa pulled out photos of the house back before the latest remodels and back when they each had fewer laugh lines on their faces. 

At one point my Grandma got up and picked up a framed black and white photo from the mantle. It was the two of them and their bridal party on their wedding day. They were stunning, young, and vibrant in a way I never knew them. But their smiles and the way Grandma had her arm looped through Grandpa’s were so familiar. She leaned in close to me and said “wasn’t he handsome?!” It made Grandpa blush, even after all these years. 

Before we left I asked if I could take their portrait. I’m their granddaughter so they acquiesced and they sat together on the couch. Grandpa instantly put his arm around Grandma. They snuggled tight without me asking. It was just natural to them. And in the next moment they looked at each other and I knew that love doesn’t have to grow old. I believe in a love that never grows old, even as your hair turns grey and your laugh lines deepen from a lifetime of smiling at the sight of each other.  


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