This past Saturday would have been my 50th wedding anniversary had my husband lived. We were married in 1962. We met when I was fifteen and he nineteen. He was from a neighboring county. All of his friends thought we were a perfect match. We started “going steady” when he gave me his high-school class ring from 1959. It was the fashion in those days to wrap your boyfriend’s ring in angora wool which was teased into a puff. Cool, daddy, cool.
Our dates were Saturday night events consisting of going to the Dairy Queen or Frisch’s drive through, or to the local theatre where we watched movies like “All Hands on Deck,” with Pat Boone and Barbara Eden and “Sanctuary,” starring Lee Remick and Yves Montand. We thought we were so grownup. After our dates we would park under the sugar maple tree at the end of my driveway. When my dad thought we’d been out there long enough he would turn the flood light off and on.
We were each other’s only sweethearts. When I graduated from high-school we became engaged. My ring had an actual diamond chip and was precious to my heart. We were married that October. Two weeks later Chuck was drafted into the army. Eleven months later our first son was born. Two other sons followed giving us three wonderful boys.
When Chuck returned home from active duty we set up housekeeping in nearby Lexington,Ky. He became an engineer and I a registered nurse. We were given forty-three years together. Our love never waned. I can truly say I loved him just as much the day I kissed him good-bye as I did when we shared our first kiss under that old sugar maple tree.
On what would have been my 50th wedding anniversary I celebrated good memories.