Right now, just under an hour away, my grandmother Harriet is holding my granddaddy H.C.’s hand and singing softly to him as he takes his time on his way to meet Jesus.

He has his daughters there with him and one of his sweet granddaughters, my cousin Molly too.

This has been a big year for my grandparents. In February, we celebrated my granddaddy’s 90th birthday.

Then in March, we celebrated their 70th year of marriage.

I’ll be celebrating a mere 15 years myself this October.  Just barely over 20% of the years they have had together. I can’t even imagine.

My cousin Molly shared with me at the last of these two get togethers that recently someone had come by to evaluate how he was doing. They asked a simple task of him. Could he write a sentence? No big deal right?

Granddaddy hadn’t been talking as much as he used to. Sometimes he would get a little confused or worried when things didn’t seem just right. If he could, what would he write?

They didn’t ask him to copy a pre-written phrase, or take down a line of dictation. They just asked him to write any sentence.

What did he write?

“I love my wife.”

When Molly shared this with me we both immediately teared up in the telling of it, because, well…they aren’t your average grandparents.

Or great grandparents for that matter.

What a gift to his wife to write that whether it be 1 year or 70. What a gift to his grandchildren to know that marriage is worth the hard work and that love can last through thick and thin.  (and please know that they have certainly had both)

I am blessed to have had the grandparents I have had for as long as I’ve had them.

I’ll miss Henry Clinton Milam, the man who taught me to make pop corn, who loves Bugs Bunny, and the man who loves his wife.

See you on the other side Granddaddy.

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