These are my grandparents, Rose and Ed. There story taught me about what love means:
On Easter Sunday in 1947, Rose’s friend was having a party and needed someone with a camera to come. Rose went and brought her camera. When she got there, she saw a man sitting in the corner and he got up to introduce himself. As he stood up, she said he kept getting taller, and taller, and taller. Rose was only 5’3 and Ed was 6’2. She was looking for tall, dark, and handsome and she found it. They started dating, their first date was roller-skating
One day, after taking a ride on the trolley, they were walking up her street and he turned to her and said, “Well, I guess we should get married.”
My grandparents got married, and had four sons. They put all four of their sons through private school education and all of their sons went on to college and have successful jobs. Rose and Ed had seven grandchildren, four daughters in law, and one granddaughter to be.
My grandpa died in 2000, after 53 years of marriage to his Rose. Even that far into their marriage, they still acted like newly-weds, and they were still in love. My nana died last week. They are now together again, in heaven, watching down on their family. I want to find love like the love that my grandparents shared. I know it’s out there somewhere.