It’s been over a week since our 41st anniversary celebration and we’re still recuperating. Before you read on I must tell you that this isn’t my typical blog post. There isn’t a recipe and there aren’t food and tablescape pics. I will share more celebration pics in Part 2. This is our family story and I appreciate your indulgence.
On Saturday, January 3, 1976, there was a blizzard warning and motorists were advised to stay off the roads. At the time, I was a ward clerk (health unit secretary) at one of our local hospitals and it was my weekend off. Being very young and foolish, my cousin, best friend and I were determined to get our groove on at one of the union halls that held a dance most every weekend. I drove. My winter driving skills were far from the best and the snow was coming down with a vengeance.
Since then I’ve learned that slamming on the brakes when you hit an icy patch going around a curve is a bad idea. However, hitting that icy patch was one of the best things that ever happened to me. Naturally, I started to slide when I hit the brakes. My car jumped the curb and we ended up in an empty lot. Car after car drove by and no one stopped to help us. With no way to get in touch with anyone (sorry no cell phones), we felt doomed. That is until a silver Lincoln Mark IV came around the corner and slowed down. The driver exited the Lincoln first. Talk about tall, dark and handsome! He had the biggest afro I had ever seen and I declared him my knight in shining armor.
You know how in some movies when a couple makes eye contact the cartoon lovebirds appear chirping loudly and bells start ringing. That is what happened when Mr. tall, dark and handsome and I locked eyes. He and his passenger who was his cousin pushed my little Chevy Nova out of the snow. He then introduced himself and asked where we were headed. I told him and he asked if we had time to stop at another local spot before we went to the dance. I spoke for my cousin, and friend and said yes. Needless to say, they weren’t too thrilled. That night 41 years ago I told them, “I’m going to marry him and this will be a great story to tell our kids” They told me I was crazy and to hurry up so we could go dancing before it got too late.
Once we got to the local spot Frank Garth gave me his phone number and the rest is history. I still have the card with his number on it.
Six months and 23 days later we were married. Here we are after 41 years with 5 kids and 8 grandchildren. To this day the lot where we met is still empty and of course, our kids know our story like the back of their hands.
For our 30th anniversary, we renewed our vows. Our kids surprised us and our guests with a DVD movie presentation. It was several short skits on what it means to be married. Some were serious and thought provoking and others were hilarious. The best skit was the reenactment of how we met. All the characters were sock puppets made to look like each of us. BEST PRESENT EVER!!!
Marriage isn’t always pretty and there are times when the lovebirds aren’t chirping and what was once a bell sounds more like a gong. Nowadays it seems like more and more couples wouldn’t rather give up and move on when they hit a rough patch. We vowed to cherish and love each other in 1976 and we haven’t given up on that commitment. I’m still not the best driver on snow and ice but I have my knight in shiny armor’s phone number on speed dial.
These are the link parties I participate in. Drop by and show them a little love!