NIAGARA FALLS — My parents will celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary on Friday.

True to form, they’ll do so without a lot of hoopla or fanfare.

We were planning to throw them a big party but it didn’t work out.

My grandmother — my mom’s mom — hasn’t been feeling well lately.

She spent several days in the hospital and is now recovering at a rehabilitation center.

The experience has been tough on mom and dad.

They practically begged us to cancel their party plans.

Reluctantly, we obliged.

They could have celebrated their special occasion in front of 70 or so family members and friends.

Instead, my parents said, ‘thanks, but no thanks, we're fine, save your money.”

That's how they are.

They’ll give before taking everytime.

It’s just their way.

My sisters and I wanted for nothing.

When we asked, they offered sound advice.

When we were down, they assured us things would get better.

When we were in a financial bind, they always managed to find a few extra bucks.

On many occasions, they opened their doors to less fortunate souls from the neighborhood — colorful friends we brought home as strays in need of a warm bed and a home-cooked meal.

I don’t remember them ever turning a single person away.

They are truly generous people, an increasingly rare breed by today’s standards.

I know I’m their son and I’m supposed to say stuff like this, but I find them truly remarkable.

Dad was a woodworker by trade. He didn’t go to college, but he could fool a lot of people. He is well-read and knowledgeable, a product of having veracious newspaper reading habits. He can stand his own in a roomful of professional types but is more at home striking up conversations with everyday workers — waiters, waitresses, store clerks, office assistants and the like. Going with him to get a cup of coffee at the neighborhood convenience store can be an hour-long affair by the time he’s done catching up with everybody. He’s just an outgoing guy that way.

Mom is the Gracie Allen to his George Burns. My apologies to the modern-day audience but I can’t think of an updated comparison. What I mean to say is that my mother has impeccable comedic timing and plays off my father’s personality very well. He talks. He complains. She listens. He talks and complains some more. She listens. When she’s had about enough, she puts him in his place with a snappy one-liner, quick turn of phase that busts up the room and moves dad on to the next topic.

My parents have been entertaining people with their routine for years. They joke and laugh often. Their good humor is contagious. They are fun to be around.

They are also hospitable and compassionate. They do not judge. They never cared about the size of a person’s pocket book or social status or color or persuasion. They don’t marginilize the sick or the different or the odd or the handicapped. They always make it a point to make sure people who might otherwise be relegated to the outer fringes of polite society have a seat at the table, find their way into the conversation, get in on the fun and have a good time.

As a result, my parents have earned a great deal of respect and love from a variety of people from all walks of life.

What I appreciate most about them is the way they made our home such a welcome place to be.  

As a teenager, while the rest of my friends were experiencing angst and desparately trying to get as far away from their parents as they could, I quickly realized that I had no reason to feel the same.

For me, home was home — comforting, loving, safe.

I always knew, no matter what happened, no matter where I was or what I did, I could always go back again.

Dad may not have been too happy about it, but he got over it eventually.

Mom would always put food on the table while giving you a chance to talk it out.

After all these years of being on my own, it still feels good to go home again.

Married couples have 50th wedding anniversaries everyday. They get gifts and have parties. They are congratulated by family members and friends. They celebrate in grand fashion.

My parents didn’t get any of that stuff this year, not yet anyway.

For the time being, they’ll make due with whatever acknowledgement they get from their newspaper reporter son, their two daughters and all the grand-kids and friends and relatives that go with them.

Knowing them, they’ll be fine with it.

Maybe, in some ways it is as it should be for Melvin and Dorothy Scheer.

They left lasting impressions on the lives of a lot of people during their 50 years of marriage.  

There’s really not a party or gift big enough to thank them for it.