It was a wonderful night for the theatre; the director brought his date through the double-doors, the rich scent of Italian food complementing the romantic atmosphere. The woman breathed the herbs and spices with happiness, and the director politely drew out a chair. Moments later, my grandfather escorted his own date through the restaurant to join them. Now, he doesn’t even remember her name. Conversation was noteworthy, especially over red wine that forced furious blushing and constant laughter. My grandfather gazed across the table at the director’s date: the soft firelight emphasized her beauty. Her name was Mary, and to this day I’ve treasured her, almost as much as my grandfather has.

“It was chemistry,” They both recall softly while smiling into each other’s eyes. “We looked across the table, and there it was.”

This was not infatuation; it was pure, unconventional love at first sight. Their affection and understanding of each other’s inner feelings and turmoil amazes me. I have regained faith in true love’s existence, even though many times I lost that same faith.

A couple our family knows well possesses everything needed for happiness. They’re just missing one, key ingredient. The wife continuously bullies her husband with complaints and criticism. The husband’s words fail him, and like a basset hound, he droops and ignores it all.

Once upon a time in Mt. Lebanon, a family seemed so wrapped up in each other’s joy. Violently, their love was ripped from the seams after the father became infatuated with a secretary from work. Their little, stone cottage with the white fence is sold, their children are distraught with pain, the wife has sunk into despair.

Sometimes, even my own parents lash out with accusatory words that could drive a wrench through anyone’s heart. My aunts and uncles have their ups and downs; the downs are more common.

The divorce rate in our country is swelling up like a nasty blister, created from too much tension and stress. In our society, it has suddenly become acceptable to trash a relationship before taking the challenge to mend what has been broken.

Many times, I’ve turned away from the propaganda of young, crazy love. Reflect upon the older generations instead. The adorable couples that bake blueberry pies together in small kitchens, their skin like melted wax. My grandparents push forward with optimism each day. Their essence is tied to their loved ones, to each other and to new opportunities. They’ve risen above the trifles of our world today, because they’ve already looked life’s harsh realities square in the face. They’ve realized that an attitude changes any situation for the better or worse. When their compassionate spirits are needed, when tears are shed; my grandparents simply listen together. They seem to meditate with humble gazes.

Mary is a true storyteller in both language and soul. She will always be my grandmother. Her life experiences growing up in Chile, India and San Francisco give her the magical gift of captivating every individual in the room. The love shared between her and my grandfather is something I may never be able to relate too. To fine their special love, many couples don’t realize each side must sacrifice. You may find love early. However, you may even wait a few generations for true love to encompass you under its wings.