We all know the story. They met in Cairo during the Second World War. Teta (Grandmother) was working as a secretary in my Grandfather’s office and had a penchant for filing things by color. Granddad was smitten.
Teta would tell the story. Three men had asked for her hand. When my Grandfather made his proposal she’d told him, “but I don’t love you.” To which he courageously replied, “I love you enough for the both of us.”
Growing up I heard this story and always thought it was a testament to my Grandmother’s beauty and vivacity. You see, she naturally took center stage.
I didn’t know then what I know now. I didn’t know that this was really a story about a man who’s love ran steady and deep. Who was full of courage and kindness. He shared that not only with her but with all of us.
When my Teta was dying he sat draped over the edge of the bed and reminded all who entered that she was his sweetheart. Shortly before he passed I visited him for the last time. I recall him taking my Aunt’s hand in his and looking up at her and saying, “Darling, don’t worry.” That kindness, not dulled by life and age, shining through his baby blues.
How lucky we are to have born witness to such great love.