FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF OUR LIVES

Our breakfast this morning.

 

I wish I could say the sour cream was homemade (Just a few years ago it would have been, we had goats, cows and sheep).  The eggs were fresh from the chickens yesterday.  We missed having animals; three years ago I bought home 6 chickens and heard no complaints from my other half.  He quickly helped plan what to do with them till a place could be made. (They were housed in a dog crate in his work shop for two weeks.) 

The Strawberries were from last year's garden.  (It was very wet last year and we lost all the plants.) 

Today is the first day of the rest of our lives.  It is a very trite saying, but oh so true.  We were married the day after I turned 18, which was 48 years ago.  It was only two days after I graduated high school.  There are days I would have changed and things I've done I would not have done if I had had more knowledge.  But if I had had more knowledge would I have married the most perfect man in the world for me.  One who would tolerate my mood swings and encourage my free thinking attitudes, someone who caters to my whims.  There are so many wonderful sides to my man.  I am proud to be his wife; I can not imagine sharing my life forever with anyone else.

Close friends know the story of our beginning.  We were technically a blind date (at least he was the one that was blind).  Now days he would have been hung up for dating me. He was a teacher, and I wasn't but 17.

HIS STORY

This is a long story with many beginnings.  I will start with his story.  He was 22, it was 1962.  He had been dating a girl whom he was crazy about for 3 years.  They were involved in spelunking and she played the guitar.  He was so crazy about her he bought her a Martin twelve string guitar.  He met her in college.  Before school ended it was definite that she did not want a forever relationship. 

He graduated high school in June 1957 and Missouri University, January 1961.  He joined the army reserves upon graduating.  When he returned he had trouble finding a job as a biology teacher because he was only a year or two older than the high school students he would be teaching.  (He had graduated high school a year younger than his Friends and then he crammed 4 years of college into 3 1/2; he was younger than the rest of the graduating class.)

You see, he was a bit of a geek.  He even had the horn rimmed tape in the center glasses and the key ring filled with keys (actually he had two rings on his belt).  He was as high as you could go in the scouting world and was now an assistant scout master with his Dad, who was Scoutmaster.  In the basement of his parent’s house he had 400 Siamese fighting fish, each in their own little baby food jars.  He was breeding them.

Each day he had to care for each of them. 

He found a job teaching at the Museum of Natural science and History.  He wasn't dating anyone in particular; he was, as we called it then, “playing the field".  He had his core group of friends, who he went to college with and they were all spelunkers and were into folk singing, (I didn't mention he played a great guitar and sang).  This is where my story begins.

MY STORY

I turned 17 in June of 1962.  I didn't know it then but I enjoyed writing.  I was very into the dramatic arts.  I had been a piano student since I was eleven.  I took violin in the school sponsored program since I was 10. I even took a year of the flute (it was nice but not something I wanted to dive into.)  During this time from when I was about seven till I was 13, I took tap and ballet.  This was almost a pre-requisite to growing up in the 50's.  I was the oldest of 6 children spread over 17 years. 

September of 62 I began my senior year of school.  I had enrolled for English 4 and a class called public speaking.  It was a new class that year and the teacher for it was also the teacher for the English class.  She was new to the school too.  Little did I realize how influential she would be to the rest of my life?

She was a very innovative teacher and a closet journalist.  We never knew what to expect in either of the classes she was teaching.  The second week of school she announced on Monday she would have someone to come speak.  (I had her twice so I would be hearing the speech twice.)

Monday arrived, the speaker turned out to be a folk singer.  His topic was, Folk Music as a means of communication.  The next hour he sang and told the history of the folk songs.  I was enamored with all of it.  I had decided I would probably go to college to be a music teacher, so this "played to my ears".

I was enthralled I was going to be able to hear him again.  At the end of the day I had the biggest crush on him you can't even imagine.  On the way home on the school bus (in 62 hardly anyone had their own cars) I told my girl friend when we were discussing his performances (she was in the classes too), "That's the guy I'm going to marry."  She replied, "How are you going to meet him, you are so boy crazy."  I answered, "No I'm not and I don't know how I will meet him. But I do know I am going to marry him."  She humphed and laughed at me, end of discussion. 

That night I sat down to write a note of appreciation.  He had taken his day off work to come to our school to speak.  I figured I could at least let him know how I enjoyed the presentation.  It was a three page note; I told him how I was planning on being a Music teacher and how pertinent his talk was.  I didn't know his address so I just mailed it addressed to him in care of the place he worked.

The next morning in English class we found out in three weeks Mr."---" would be speaking again.  The other English classes had heard and wanted him to be a guest in their classes.  He was launched into stardom and was asked to speak at an assembly in front of all the students at our school.

I was so excited to be able to see him again.  I had no idea I wouldn't have to wait for three weeks to go by.

MORE OF HIS STORY

This is where we return to his story.  I mailed my letter to him at school on Tuesday morning.  Being it was local mail, it traveled to its destination tout suite.  He received it Thursday while at work.  He also received 4 other "notes".  It looks like I wasn't the only girl with a crush.  He read the notes and the next day took the notes to his boss to show him what he was doing on his day off.  His boss is a very overly friendly guy and he read the notes and when he read mine he wrote on the back of the envelope "Ask her if she has a sister".

When they were returned to him, he thought to himself, "They took the time to write these I am going to give them to their teacher so they can get extra credit."  When she read them she commented, I can't give extra credit, but as she read my note she said, "This girl you've got to meet". 

MORE OF MY STORY

On Monday the next week my teacher approached me.  She asked me if I was dating anyone.  I told her no.  she asked if I would like to come to her house for dinner on Sunday afternoon.  She said she was having

Mr. ----- over too.  I told her I would have to ask my MOM.  She said if it was okay He would pick me up about 2 in the afternoon. 

That evening I asked my Mom and Dad. They said they would discuss it.  I told them I needed to know by in the morning.  Boy did they discuss it (they didn't know their voices were carrying, and they thought I was asleep).  Mom was worried because he was an older man (he was 22 at the time).  Dad was in my corner (which surprised me).  He rationalized with her that I would be going away to college the next year and would be around lots of "older men".  He thought it would be a good idea I be exposed to the situation while I was still under their thumb. 

The next morning I was thrilled with the decision.  I told no one about it but I couldn't stand keeping the news to myself.  I told my teacher the next morning I would be able to go to her house.  She said she would have him call me to get directions to my house.

That evening He called.  It was a very stilted conversation.  You could tell he had no idea who I was except I was the girl behind the letter.  He told me he'd be over to pick me up at 2 on Sunday.  I still didn't tell any of my friends.  I knew they would think I was bragging.  So I kept the information to myself.  People kept saying to me, "Gee you are in a good mood this week."  I never giggled till that week. I found myself giggling all week, I couldn't wait till Sunday.  It was the longest week.

OUR STORY

 With a knock on the door our story begins.  He was very prompt, showing up exactly at two.  I swear I thought he must have parked up the street and waited till the exact time to show up.  When he rang the door bell I wanted so to open the door, but my parents didn't think it proper to do that or to call a boy.  So mother answered the door. 

He very quizzically said, "Hi, I'm ----, I'm here to pick up ----."  (He confided to me weeks later he had no idea who he was picking up and as good looking as my mom was he would have taken her out if she had said she was me.)  My mom was cautiously cordial and said come in.  The intros were made and he said, "We are going to have supper with my friends is there any special time I should bring her home?"  (I gave kudos to him for saying the right thing at the right time.)  Mom says, "Seven o'clock, it is a school night."  You should have seen the "look" she gave him. It was a very critical one.   We headed to the door, giving each other a glance and not knowing if we should make small talk.  It was first date jitters to the max. He opened the door for me to climb into his charcoal gray 51 Plymouth.  I don't remember what we talked about but it was a constant stream of banter.

It wasn't too far to my teacher’s apartment.  I remember thinking it was the first apartment I had ever been too.  I thought the lay out was so neat and compact.  My teacher was married to a shop teacher who was employed at the same school district.  The guys went out to the garage to do guy things, and my teacher says, "I still have to grade the tests from Friday, would you like to give me a hand?"  I said, "Are you sure it's okay for me to do that?"  She said, “Sure”. What else was I going to do, stand there like a bump on the log?  We spent the afternoon grading papers and the guys stayed in the garage.  All of a sudden she realizes she hasn't started dinner.  She was serving spaghetti and salad.  I told her I had to be home at 7 and she said, “I hope we are done in time.” 

We weren't.  At 6:30 I excused myself to call home and asked mom if I could stay longer because we had been late starting dinner.  She said I had to be home by 9, no excuses.  I was returned home at the proper time.  The porch light was on; He got out of the car and came around to open the door for me, made small talk about how nice the day was.  (I'm thinking, yeah right, you played with her husband and I played with her.  I am also thinking boy did I blow my chance.  He just thinks of me as a little kid. )  We get to the door and I say thanks and goodbye.  He leans over and kissed me, don't get excited guys.  It was on the forehead.  I smiled and had the door open out of my hand.  Mom was right there.  In my heart I knew I had blown any chance of developing a relationship with him.

I go inside and he goes back to the car.  I didn't get to wave goodbye because mom shut the door and it was ill mannered to look out the window.

The next morning I went to class.  I wondered if he was thinking about Sunday.  I certainly was and couldn't wait for the day to end because I was hoping he would call and at least say thank you for the evening.   That evening came and went, and so did Tuesday evening, and Wednesday evening.  By Thursday morning I was very down and knew I had lost in the game of love.

That evening the phone rang about 7:30.  My mom answered the phone, she always answered the phone.  She covered the mouth piece and called me and said, "It’s that man calling for you."  I said, "What man?"  She said, "The teacher that took you to the teacher's house."  I came to the phone and said in a blank voice, "Hi".  He replied, "This is------."  I fired back at him in a crisp cold voice, "What do you want."  I have no idea what he thought but he very calmly replied, "Would you like to go to dinner at --- house again on Sunday."  I did the old, I have to ask mom.  She said, "You missed youth group last week you'll miss it again."  I countered with, "Please Mom", in a whiny voice.  She gave in and said yes, but I would have to be home early because of school. 

We went to dinner; it was the same routine as the weekend before, the guys with the guys and the gals with the gals.  One difference dinner was dinner was served at five.  We were having a nice dinner when the sky opened up and it was starting to rain.  He said, "We need to leave, the windshield wipers sometimes work and sometimes don't."  So we left right away and when we got out to the parking lot all of a sudden there was a deluge.  We sat in the car because the wipers weren't working. We figured it would blow over.  There was no hurry, curfew was 9 and it was only 6.   We started talking about what we wanted to do in life.  It was the first time we truly had had time alone.  The rain on the car and the nice soft Plush seats in the Plymouth were conducive to conversation.  All of a sudden he asked me, "Are you planning on getting married and do you want kids?"  I said, “Yes that is something I want to do eventually."  He said, "Do you want a career?"  I said, "Of course". Then he said, "Which is more important to you, career or marriage?"  Remember this is the 60's.  I said, "Can't a woman do both?"  Something to remember, he had only kissed me on the forehead once.  He had never said I love you and neither had I.  My friends did not know we were on a date, much less for a second time.  Tomorrow he was going to go back to my school and sing at an assembly.

He answers my question, "If you are sure you want marriage and a family, will you marry me?  Not right now but when you are ready?"  Without hesitation I answered a "Yes."  It was sealed with a kiss and two more hours of kissing in the rain battered car. We were married 9 months later, two days after I graduated High school and the day after I turned 18.  June 8, 1963.  Forty eight years ago.

Would I change anything, not if it would change the outcome of the last forty-eight years.

To see more of us check out my blogs:

This one contains articles on quilting, sewing, cooking, some prose/poetry and some gardening.

http://www.gloriouscreations.blogspot.com/

This blog is about our gardening experiences, but contains some prose, and cooking.  This year there are several entries about the wildflowers on our farm.

http://www.organicinstlouis.blogspot.com/