Weddingbee Blog

Let me start by saying family is very important to me, especially my grandparents. So many of my childhood memories are filled with them; bedtime was always special with Nana, and Papa made me a hardcore Steelers fan by the ripe old age of five. When I was twelve, my entire family went on a cruise to celebrate their 50th anniversary. I remember thinking to myself that I wanted to be just like them, and that I’d celebrate my 50th anniversary on a cruise, too.

{My grandparents on their wedding day in 1946}

When I think of the epitome of love I think of my grandparents. I’ll never forget this past Easter. It was the night before, and Mr. Macs and I were headed to the movies. We had just bought our tickets when I got a call from my mother. That Saturday at 11:30 PM my heart stopped. My grandfather was being rushed to the emergency room for an abdominal aortic aneurysm. For those of you who aren’t familiar, it’s a silent killer; most people don’t realize they have AAA until it’s ruptured and by then it’s generally too late. Sixty-five to seventy-five percent of patients die before arriving at the hospital, and up to ninety percent die before they reach the operating room. I couldn’t think straight; all I knew was that I NEEDED to be there with my family, no matter how grave the outcome. We rushed back home to grab a change of clothes and to give our friend a spare key before making our way to South Florida. Let me tell you, it was the most nauseating four-hour card ride of my life. If it weren’t for Mr. Macs, I would have never been able to make the drive by myself.

At 2:05 AM I got another phone call. Papa was out of surgery and they were moving him to SICU. He was still alive but wasn’t breathing on his own. The surgeon said he did the best he could and that now it was just a waiting game. Best case scenario, Papa would be in SICU on a ventilator for at least three days, provided his body recovered from the trauma of losing so much blood. Three days later he wasn’t on a ventilator—he was on his way home.

On the day my grandfather was released, the surgeon pulled my family aside and said, “He’s quite remarkable.” Truer words have never been spoken. The surgeon had never seen someone recover from AAA so quickly, let alone someone as old as my grandfather. (He’s 89, by the way.) About a week after Papa got the all clear, I asked him about the whole ordeal and what he remembered prior to going into surgery. He said he was in a tremendous amount of pain; minutes seemed like hours as he and my family waited for the surgeon to reach the hospital. When the surgeon finally arrived he had one very important question for my grandfather. He told him it was pretty bad and asked if he wanted to live or to die. My grandfather told him he wanted to live—for his wife, his kids, and his grandkids.

My grandfather is the toughest man I know, and my grandmother, the most courageous woman I’ve ever met. According to science and statistics my grandfather shouldn’t be alive. Some might say it was pure luck or chance; I believe it was love.

But Miss Macarons, I thought this was a happy post! Indeed it is. Over a year ago I had planned to do something special just for them. They don’t know it yet, but Nomeda is making them a mini wedding cake, topped with their original cake topper. They’ll be celebrating 65 years of marriage in November, and I want them to have their very own cake cutting before ours. They mean the world to me and deserve some of the spotlight, because our wedding wouldn’t be a wedding without Nana and Papa.

Are you doing something special to acknowledge your grandparents?