A couple of real gems

Here's my latest EMC column. (For the record, it was pointed out to me that my grandparents were not, in fact, married above Morrison's, although that is where they had their reception. They were married in at St. Mary's Cathedral. Details, details...)

EMC Editorial - It's hard to imagine anything that is at once so strong and so elegant as a diamond. Among other things, the stone is well known for representing the 60th wedding anniversary. I always thought such designations were a bit arbitrary and unnecessary. (Fun fact - did you know that the 85th wedding anniversary is represented by wine?) Lately, however, I find myself thinking quite a bit about the symbolic value of the diamond.

My maternal grandparents are celebrating 60 years of marriage on May 5. I must admit that it's a little hard for me as a 20-something-year-old to fully grasp just how long a time frame 60 years is. In fact, I believe that a month or so ago, I naively insinuated that my own five years of marriage was a bit of a big deal, needless to say, my grandparents' milestone kind of puts things in perspective.

Not a lot of people can say they've celebrated a 60th wedding anniversary. That's 60 years of not getting (too) sick of one another, 60 years of not falling (too much) in love with someone else, and 60 years of neither half of the couple succumbing to illness. If that's not something to celebrate, I don't know what is.

Grandma and Gramps met in the late 1940s at a local Catholic Youth Organization event. Some years later, they were married in the hall above what is now Morrison's restaurant on King Street.

Fast-forward a few more years, and Gramps and Grandma had six children, and were living in a big, cosy house on Napier Street. In the early 1960s, they purchased an acre of waterfront land on Howe Island for $4,000, which they reluctantly sold for much, much more than that two years ago.

We all lamented the loss of our beloved cottage, which over the decades became the most special of places to all members of the family. Yet my grandparents pointed out that even if they hadn't made a dime from selling the cottage, it was still the best investment they ever made for all the treasured memories it produced.

Shortly thereafter, my grandparents were forced to live apart for the first time in well over half a century, as Gramps' Parkinson's disease advanced to a point where it began to severely affect his mobility. His new residence, Providence Manor, is a mere 10-minute walk from Grandma's condo, yet it still seems odd to see them living so far apart.

All the same, Grandma rarely fails to make the trek each and every day to visit Gramps, and between the two of them they have managed to make that small little room at the long term care facility feel as much like home as possible.

My grandparents' steadfast ability to have fun together and make the most of every situation has always seemed to me one of the most precious qualities imaginable. Much like a diamond, their love is strikingly beautiful, and yet as unbreakable as they come.

Fifty-five years down the road, I hope I will be lucky enough to be able to say the same. The feeling, I can imagine, must be worth its weight in gold.