Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Patriotic Anniversary

Barry and I met on the fourth of July. That was a turning point in my life. 

First Christmas in our Mountain Home. We were so happy.
I teach my students to write down the turning points of their lives as a way to organize their memoirs. Meeting Barry was a large turning point in my life. I had become disenchanted with dating, with men, and wanted nothing to do with their kind. I fell in love with a beautiful young mare my brother had bought for the farm. She kept me busy and I could depend on her. I told myself I could teach and ride horseback and never miss dating.

I had graduated from college and come home like the good little girl I was expected to be. The men I dated expected me to be something I was not. But I agreed to go on a blind date with a young man, Barry Beall, who would not take no for an answer. 

He arrived in a maroon Chevy II convertible, climbed out of his car and walked toward me where I stood watching my older brothers play horse shoes in our yard. I was not impressed with my date's looks -- tall, skinny with a crew cut. He wore the worst looking knit swim shorts I'd ever seen. 

My first impression changed completely by the time we had taken a boat ride and spent time talking, and watching the fireworks that night. We fell in love on July 4th. We married the following year on Flag Day, June 14. 

He grew more handsome as he aged.
Today at our table our old friends gathered and we remembered Barry. I know he was with us. We couldn't see him but I felt his presence and his love.
We were The Six


Lise said...

What a lovely love story. I am so so sorry for your loss, and based on previous comments to me on my own losses, I understand your understanding. It is not often you find someone who truly understands the depth of your loss. Please know that I hold you in my thoughts as you remember the good times, and feel the emptiness. I know we don't know each other except through our blogs, but I send you big strong hugs. May you find peace in your joyous memories!

gay moring said...

Barry was definitely there with us yesterday, Glenda. I so wish he could be with us physically and will always miss his presence.

Glenda Beall said...

Thank you, Lise. I accept your hugs and return them.
Sometimes we actually learn more about others by reading their writing than we do by sitting and talking.

I have other friends I've met online and never met in person. I consider them and you among my best friends.

Abbie Taylor said...

Hi Glenda, that was a sweet story. I'm sorry Barry is no longer with you.

I don't remember the exact day I met Bill. You could say we met online. We subscribe to a cassette magazine for the blind called Newsreel where people share ideas, music, recipes, and sell or give away items. Bill e-mailed me in a response to a question I had about computers, since he owned a computer store in Fowler, Colorado, for twenty years.

In April of 2004, after a two-year long distance relationship, (I lived in Sheridan, Wyoming, and still do.) Dad and I stopped in Fowler on our way to visit my brother and his family in New Mexico. He was tall with graying hair. He wore blue jeans and a t-shirt and walked with a cane. At the time, I got the impression he just wanted to be friends so it was a shock when in January of 2005, I received a letter from him, asking me to consider marrying him. To make a long story short, we're living happily ever after, although he's in a wheelchair, and I must care for him.

Abbie Johnson Taylor, Author of
We Shall Overcome
How to Build a Better Mousetrap:
Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver