Parted and Precious

   My grandfather waited twenty years to open a bottle of vintage port that my grandmother had given him as a surprise.
   Tonight would be their fortieth anniversary, and he sat in vigil beside it, lighting a candle.  His hands shook, but his eyes were steady.
   It took years for grandpa and grandma to find one another.
   And in a way, they were both still as distant as the stars.