My grandmother still does aerobics 2 times a week, while also taking on lead roles in plays written by a fellow neighbor in their convalescent home. The last play I went to see, she was running for President. I had expected to show up and experience this cheesy albeit cute play, probably similar to the feeling a parent gets watching their 8 year old on stage for the first time in a christmas choir concert.
I asserted that the theme would include old folks sitting around a table playing Gin Rummy or Bingo. But, it was so far from that. I raced out of work trying to get there on time and when I arrived breathless, I found the sight before me chilling. The room was a squished mass of wheel chairs and hearing aids, yet there was an excitement in the air as they watched with thrill and resounding applause and laughter at this story of Viola Hall running for President. Several in the crowd actually waved large signs perched on sticks, "Vote for Viola". It was like I was watching Saturday Night Live meets a town meeting during the primaries, but exclusively for old folks.
And there she was my grandmother. She had gone to the beauty parlor that day as her shiny gray locks folded in curls perfectly while her eyes were wide with energy and her body moving in her typical sassy manner. She was beautiful, hitting every beat and embellishing the audience before her. She loved every minute in front of an audience. She often speaks of the one time she was cast in the community play in her teens and how the show got cancelled and she never got past just rehearsals. Here she was, centuries later, having an opportunity to live a lost dream.
I was moved that such smart, creative talent could still be captured in old bones. This play, smack dab during the Palin controversy, was relevant, caddy and brought many in the room, me included to tears of laughter. I was inspired by the precious spirits that surrounded me. And, I was encouraged that my life ahead could be consistently filled with love, laughter and lots of creativity.
Ah. So back to them, Viola and Rhett. There we were in the midst of our Outback Steak, my grandmother is addicted to their Blooming Onion appetizer, dinner and my grandmother leans across the table and asks my grandad, "So honey do you think we will make it to 70 years?". And without a bat of an eye, he grudgingly looks at her and says, "70? Darling at least 78!". Oh my heart, my entire body got warm all over.
It's a wonder that marriages barely get past 3 years let alone 70. Yet, there is something so sacred between two people who have stuck it out through thick and thin for that length of time. They look at each other adoringly and anticipate the others' needs on a momentary basis. They embody the true definition of what God envisioned when he created marriage, two really becoming one. I wish they weren't such a rarity. But feel so blessed to have such an example in my life. To Viola and Rhett.. happy 68th.. and here is to at least 10 more!
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