Yesterday would have been my grandparent's 67th wedding anniversary. Years of raising four children, 10 grandchildren, and 12 great-grandchildren. Years spent in World War II. In the Korean War. Years in Japan. In Hawaii before it was a state. In too many homes to count.
Makes my eight and a half years feel pretty small.
Instead, it was the first anniversary my grandma had to celebrate it without my grandpa. My grandma has done really well this last year. She is so strong she amazes even me. At ninety-one she is still traveling all over the country, to Reno, to Pennsylvania, to North Dakota, on an Alaskan cruise. Even though she's had family traveling with her on all these trips, she hasn't had my grandpa. He probably wouldn't have cared too much for it anyway since his favorite place was on the farm taking care of the garden and feeding the animals.
I miss Gramps. I miss him a lot. But for as much as I miss him, it probably doesn't even compare to how much my grandma misses him.
Sixty seven years is a long time.