When Nana Met Pop-Pop

In 1946, Laura Meyers had two sons who had survived the war and thankfully returned home.  Her older son, Otto, had been engaged to a young woman prior to enlisting,  but he returned home quite changed (as is bound to happen when you’ve been through... you know... a war) and he called off his engagement to his wartime sweetheart. This was typical Otto behavior in the opinion of his mother, who had always preferred her younger son, Dale.

Sidebar: My great grandmother Laura was one of six children.  Her siblings were named Axel, Ethel, Francis, Elmer and Hazel. Although she clearly won her family’s naming olympics, she was not a benevolent victor and bestowed the names: Otto, Constance, and Dale on her three children. Harsh.

If your name is Hazel or Elmer... you probably look like these kids.

Anyway, Laura had noticed the girl who lived across the street, a senior in high school, Marceline Burke, who she thought would be a perfect choice for her favored son, Dale.  However, Marceline’s company was in high demand.  She was already attending the Prom with a man a few years older than her (twenty-five, the same age as Otto), Johnny Morper.  Johnny convinced his buddy Otto, to take Marceline’s friend Beverly Blue to the Prom.  

Not the real Otto and Beverly, but how much would it hurt if that
chick just wigged out and ended up falling on the floor?

Otto, compliant and easy going his entire life, was willing to go with Beverly who was pretty, though not a decent dance partner.  This was a distinct liability to Otto who was a fantastic swing dancer, and was ready to bust a move at the Prom.  Beverly, not wanting to disappoint, oversold her dance skills, and while attempting a fancy lift, poor Beverly flailed in the air and came crashing down to the dance floor and broke her arm.  Otto of course felt really guilty...  even if it was her fault, because she should have been clearer that she didn’t dance... that really burned him up.

Even with all of the dramatics, Otto had a great time at the Prom and proudly returned home to his mother and said, “That’s it.  I’m gonna marry that girl.”

She was stunned, but encouraging,  “Well... she’s very young...she couldn’t be more than 18... you really liked Beverly?”

“Nope.  I’m gonna marry Johnny’s date.  That Marceline across the street, and she’s 17, she skipped a year.  She’s gonna be my wife.”

And a year later she was, and they were married for 45 years, until she passed away.  Fourteen years later,  when he passed away he was entombed beside her, still wearing the wedding ring he had put on every morning for nearly 60 years.

This is the real Nana and Pop-Pop.  Aren't they cute?

This kind of story makes me believe that when you meet the right person, however unlikely or unexpected, you just know.  Immediately.  BAM!  Otto thought, “She’s the one.  Sure, she’s with some other dude, but ultimately, that lady is my wfie.  No doubts. 45 years.  Done and done.”

But,  I wonder if my 17 year old grandmother was as certain in an instant.  Did she spend the whole night staring at Otto, unable to focus on poor Johnny Morper...  Or... did she not notice him at all?  Would she have been stunned to know what he said to his mother?  If she’d known would she have been excited?  Confused? Alarmed?

I have always hoped to find someone as wonderful as my grandfather:  kind, dutiful, fun-loving, loyal, someone without ego, or much of a temper, not prone to stress, willing to go with the flow, generous, non-judgemental--he is maybe the best person I’ve ever known.  But, did my grandmother know that immediately?  Or did it take her time to appreciate these things?

I have never believed in love at first sight.  Attraction--yes, but knowing that you are meant to spend eternity together, no.  And yet, even with long held belief, somewhere in the back of my mind, I think I’ve been believing that love has to be like it is in movies... like it was for my grandparents in order to be real or lasting.  It can take me days to decide to buy a dress, hours to write an edit an e-mail, shit it took me eight days just to write this blog post--why is there a part of me or anyone that thinks it should take a second to decide who you’re going to spend the rest of your life with? 

This looks like everlasting love to me,
but it couldn't this be love at first sight, they don't even have eyes....