When pulling a family together from all corners of the country to celebrate a 60th wedding anniversary, it's understandable that love would be part of the weekend. But my family's version of love is truly something special. It is whirlwind powerful, built on a deep knowledge of one another and respect (mostly) for the differences that exist among us, it is generous, it is hard work and it is cherished. In one way or another, it defines all of us, for which I am incredibly grateful. This love manifests itself in many ways, only a few of which I have pictures for...
There's the original love, like between mother and daughter.
The love of good food.
And drinks. Lots of drinks.
There's Baby P's unprecedented, obsessive love for my grandmother's dog (who, make no mistake, is part of the family).
And finally, the love between generations.
My grandfather thinks a lot these days about the wisdom he wants to leave behind for all of us. What I hope he realizes is that he's already given us the greatest gift of all - each other.
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