It's Never Too Late

I love my family beyond anything else in the whole world, but I’ve always wondered why my grandma never got married. She was pregnant with my mother while she was dating my grandpa a few decades ago, and he had proposed to her many times since then, but she always said no. He loved her very much so he decided to stay with her and help with the baby anyway. My mom got older, and my grandpa decided to marry someone else. He moved near our house with his beautiful bride, Elise, but he never abandoned my grandma. Elise knew how much he loved my grandma, but she also knew that even though their relationship was over, they still had a child together. She was kind and understanding about their complicated situation, and she managed to welcome my grandma into their family. Soon she became best friends with my grandma and they have stayed that way ever since.

One day, as we were walking home from school, I asked my grandmother why she never wanted to get married.

“Who told you I didn’t want to get married?” she let out a little laugh, then added, “Let me tell you a story, love bug.”

“A love story?”

“Maybe,” she said dreamily.

She bought me an ice cream and we sat down on a bench under the most magnificent cherry tree. The sun looked down on her wrinkled face and big, soft eyes. Her silky white hair was glowing in the sunshine and her thin lips were slowly moving as I was listening to her sweet voice.

“It might be hard for you to imagine this, buttercup, but I was your age once. I wasn’t pretty like you, but I was just pretty enough to be asked out by this crazy boy from my high school.  We didn’t have any classes together, and I’d only talked to him once on my way to school. He wasn’t very handsome, his ears were huge and you could see his crocked teeth every time he smiled. But there was something with his eyes, I don’t know what it was, but I always felt this wave of reassurance and safety. But I didn’t say yes,” she paused.

“What did you say?”

“I said no, because I thought I was better than him. And trust me, buttercup, I couldn’t have been more wrong. Anyway, he didn’t give up, and we became friends. We went to school together, hung out after classes, went to dates together. I knew he liked me, but I kept treating him as a friend. In four years he had told me so many times that he had feelings for me and I had turned him down again and again, until he started seeing someone. That was the moment I realized I wanted to be with him. I felt angry at myself for not seeing it earlier. I have liked this boy from the moment we met, and I didn’t even know it. I knew it was too late but I still went over to tell him how I felt, because a part of me still hoped he would choose me, but he didn’t. He told me he was sorry, and that he wants to continue being friends after we finish high school. And that was the last time we ever talked to each other. High school ended and so did our friendship. I focused on university, and he got married. I haven’t heard from him since he had asked me to come to the wedding, but I was too embarrassed to go. I have always wondered what would have happened if I had said yes the first time he had asked me to be his girlfriend or whether or not it would have made a difference if I had gone to the wedding. And I have never gotten over that little boy who turned my life around and then broke my heart without me realizing that I even gave it to him. Funny like that, love bug, when you love someone, even if you’ve never even kissed them, you don’t stop loving them. You just wish them happiness and go on with your life.”

“Wow, grandma… I had no idea. And what happened when you started dating grandpa?”

“Oh, I loved your grandpa. I still do. But I couldn’t marry him when I kept wishing I was marrying someone else instead. That wouldn’t have been fair to anyone. But I’m glad he has found someone good.”

“What was his name?” I asked her.

“George Timothey,” she whispered, but I could hear perfectly.

I opened my mouth in disbelief. That was my classmate’s grandfather, but I didn’t say anything. We went home, and I kept thinking about the story. I called Marc, my classmate and one of my best friends, and I told him everything. At the end, I told him the name.

“Are you serious? Wait, why did you tell me all this?”

“I wanted you to know. Do you think your grandfather still remembers my grandma?”

I was afraid to hear the answer. “I know he does,” he said quietly. “He got diagnosed with schizophrenia five years ago. He didn’t remember who grandma was and he kept calling her Julie. Now I know why.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? How is he doing now?”

“He’s better. The doctor says he’s recovering slowly. Thank God.”

“I’m glad. I’m sorry I’ve never asked you about him.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “Anyway, grandma couldn’t take care of him by herself, so he sent him to live with us, and she didn’t live much longer after that.”

“God… I’m sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.”

“You didn’t. I know why you told me, and maybe you two can come over tomorrow after school. Hopefully, he will remember her.”

The following day, I didn’t tell my grandma where we were going or who was the boy walking with us. For all she new, he was just a colleague. Marc had warned me that his grandfather might not remember her, but at least my grandma would get to see him again.

We walked in and Marc told us to wait in the living room. My grandma had stopped asking what we were planning and was simply looking at the bookshelf. She dropped the book she was holding when she saw George walk in after Marc. His ears were really huge, but not as huge as his smile had been.

“Julie,” he said softly. “It’s really you.”

My grandma was crying as he went in for a hug. She told me later that in that moment, she thought she had completely lost her mind. They looked at each other as if they were still teenagers, and they finally kissed. After almost a lifetime, they had had their magical moment. Their age didn’t matter a bit.

Marc and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. We helped them sit down on the couch, and me and Marc left them alone for a while. His dark eyes were glowing and he was very excited.

“It was unbelievable! He REMEMBERED her! And he was so happy! I am so happy! I love you, Anne.”

Our eyes met and before I knew it, I kissed him. We went back inside and found my grandma and Marc’s grandpa laughing so hard, they might as well have been little kids. We stayed there until midnight and while they were talking about everything they had missed for the last half century, George realized that talking to my grandma was improving his memory. He was telling her stories and jokes and he couldn’t believe that was him.

We came over everyday for the next few months. One December evening, after dinner, George asked my grandma to walk with him in the garden. It was freezing cold, when suddenly, Marc’s grandpa sits down on his knee in the snow and asks my grandma to turn around. She was so unbelievably happy she almost fell off her feet.

“Julie Moore, I never should have stopped fighting for you. I don’t have a time machine to change the past, but you are here now and I’m not letting you go again. Will you do me the honor of marrying this old man?”

“YES!!” she cried as she was helping him get up. “Let’s get you inside, old man”

Both of our families got together to celebrate them. In the end, my grandma was right: when you love someone, nothing can make you stop loving them. And when you belong together, not even the Universe can keep you apart.