Witnessing the love of Julius and Florence, my maternal grandparents, sparked my interest and passion for the art of showing appreciation and love.

There was one night in particular, the house was warm and buzzing with family members talking and the television was going. My grandparents had just finished eating dinner and had settled in front of the TV to watch one of their favorite shows . I was watching TV with them and noticed they were holding hands and talking with each other. It was beautiful. It made me feel safe, comforted, grounded and secure. The love they shared with each other made me happy. I believed that I was loved because they loved each other so much. There was something unconditional about it. It left a lasting impression on my 9-year-old soul. From that moment on I started to take notice of the way they shared their love with each other. It became the only kind of love I knew and understood. There was no question that my grandfather ADORED my grandmother; she was his “Suga.” There was no doubt that my grandmother ADORED my grandfather; he was her “Honey.” Their love was personal and more about gestures than it was about gifts and vacations. I realized that holding hands was just what they did all the time — it just took me nine years to notice. I felt blessed to have witnessed that kind of love growing up.

Although my grandfather is no longer with us, my grandmother lives on with the wonderful memories of being loved by her Honey. She still laughs and blushes today when we talk about him and his love for her. She is one lucky lady to have found a love so sweet.

My wish is that you all experience the love (and wooing) that is just as sweet as the love shared by grandparents.