Footsteps I'd like to follow in

In 1976, my grandparents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. Twenty-five family members gathered at their house in Logan, Utah, went to The Bluebird Restaurant for dinner, and came home afterward for dessert and a little entertainment.

I was eight. I remember the performance anxiety as I picked out 'Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star" and a harder piece from one of my violin practice books in front of more family members than I'd ever seen in one place before.

I let my mom use dead butterfly I'd found in the under-glass flower arrangement she made to commemorate the occasion. When you're eight, it's a big deal to give up a treasure like that to make someone else happy.

Fast forward to now: my parents are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary this weekend. We're going out to dinner with friends and family. There will be no knock-kneed violin solos before, during or after.

We'll have to do a seating chart so members of the ward who dislike each other aren't seated together or next to the Robertson relatives who drink. Although, it would be interesting to see how the uptightest church folks would handle sitting next to "Uncle Scotch," perhaps this is not the right occasion for a social experiment.

Since I'm getting married this year to a lovely man who is totally worth the wait (I'm trying to bait him into leaving a comment), I can't help but look at the example of my forebears and aspire to a golden wedding anniversary of our own in 2056.