My Grandfather Got Hitched

When my grandmother died in March, we weren’t sure what would happen with my grandfather. He is seventy-seven years old, and he had been married to my grandmother for sixty-one years. Essentially, he had never been single.

Imagine my shock and surprise when my father told me that my grandfather was going to be getting married! In Oregon nonetheless!

My dad was going to do the wedding, and I just felt that I needed to go with him to be there for my grandfather, so we bought our Southwest Airlines tickets and planned to head out.

On Wednesday of last week, my wife drove me down to my dad’s house and at 4:30 the next morning, we headed down to T.F. Greene Airport in Providence, Rhode Island. We boarded and headed out. We arrived in Portland, Oregon (pronounced oru-ghin), later that day, and we drove with my grandfather and his soon-to-be-wife, Sandie Longawger (pronounced long-auger) to the little town of Philomath (pronounced as something like felōmit). We stayed with my grandfather Thursday and then had the wedding on Friday evening. On Saturday morning, the newly joined Mr. & Mrs. Anthony DiVietro (pronounced dē-vē-trō) dropped us off at the airport and headed off into the sunset of marital bliss.

Sandy (apparently, pronounced Marie by her family) is a nice lady. She is a Christian woman who runs a nursing home for about ten residents. She has a lot of kids – some of whom are kids, grandkids, greatgrandkids, kids’ spouses, and a few I am pretty sure were no relation whatsoever – and she is a part of a little Church of God in the next town over, Corvallis. The pastor, Travis, was pretty cool.

Anyway, here are some pictures from the ceremony and festivities. Not included are the pictures of my father and I dragging our butts from jet-lag and short nights of sleep.


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