We said good-bye to Joe's grandfather today. He was in his 102nd year of life. He was a wonderful man. A caring man. A loving man.
By the time I was a teenager, both my paternal and maternal grandparents were gone. But when I married Joe, I had grandparents again. They accepted me into their fold. It felt warm and safe.
Papa was born in the summer of 1910. He was born in a village in the Austro-Hungarian Empire. What changes he must have seen over the past century!
Joe's grandparents were married for over 79 years. SEVENTY-NINE YEARS!
Theirs was a true love story. In 1933, Papa's brother was seeing a very nice girl. Papa said to him, "Does she have a sister?" Well as a matter of fact, she did. Papa and Omami had their first date on January 1, 1933 and were married on January 24, 1933. The only reason they waited so long (23 whole days) to wed was because their banns needed to be read in church for 3 consecutive Sundays.
Papa treated his wife like a queen.
Soon after they married, two daughters were born. Not long after that, Omami could sense the rumblings of war and she persuaded Papa to move their family to Canada. They arrived in the New World with a few dollars in their pockets and hope in their hearts.
Papa and Omami settled in Vancouver. Their daughters grew up, got married, had children. The grandchildren grew up, got married, had children. The great-grandchildren grew up. Four fabulous generations.
Papa lived a very long, very happy, very healthy life. He only started to slow down well into his 101st year. He passed away peacefully, surrounded by his devoted family.
He liked to say, "I am a lucky man."
I was lucky enough to call him 'Papa'.
Good-bye Papa. You will be missed.
