What's Love.

Quite a pair.

It's never too late for true love. Ask my grandma. Sometimes I'd catch my 90-something year old grandparents flirting. Sometimes it was hard to remember that their 16 year marriage started when they were in their late 70's/early 80's.

My "real grandfather", and my grandma's first husband, died in a car accident 32 years into their marriage. They owned a nightclub and bowling alley in rural Ohio and had 5 children, one who died at birth. Of the remaining 4, one has Multiple Sclerosis, one has battled Brain Cancer (twice), one has Multiple Myeloma (form of bone marrow cancer) and the the fourth, my mother, is the "caretaker". At 96, after seeing her family through every hardship, there's still one thing that consistently puts a smile on her face- Muxie.

My grandma "Sito" and Muxie, dancing on my wedding day.

After my grandma's first and second husband's passed away, she reconnected with a man she'd known from her days in the nightclub. Muxie had been the owner of Budweiser's midwest distributing company and was the one who delivered beer to her bar so many years prior. It didn't take long for him to pick up and move to California to be with my grandmother. Together at last, they were each others' true love. I've never seen her glow and giggle as much as she has with him.

Muxie is the only grandfather I really ever knew. He felt like a grandfather. In typical grandparent fashion, he'd always have cash appearing out of his pockets when we'd visit, insisting we put it in ours. Everyday, without fail, his signature lunch was a fried bologna sandwich and a Budweiser. Ordering anything but a Budweiser when we were out to dinner was a no-no. At 98, he was still 'sneaking' potato chips and cookies, hiding them from my grandmother. He was goofy in his own quiet way and caring in a sweet and subtle way. When his sight started to fail him and he could no longer drive, he plucked flowers from the backyard to give to my grandma on her birthday. He was a giver his entire life, involved with his community, even putting kids through college who weren't his own.

A couple days before he died, my grandmother (who, may I remind you, is pushing 100 years old) told me these have been the best 16 years of her life. What an interesting perspective to consider-- No matter how you feel today, whatever you are struggling with or whatever paths in life didn't seem to turn your way- you can be 50/60/70 years old and you just never know- the best may be yet to come.

Loved by so many, he will be missed. I know he'd want us to munch on some potato chips and toast him with a Budweiser in his honor.

Love you, Muxie.

Bruno "Muxie" Paolina 1913-2011