Saturday, June 14, 2014

Today, June 14, is the anniversary of my wedding to Hugh Barry Beall from Rockmart, Georgia. We met on July 4 and married on Flag Day, June 14 at the First Methodist Church in Albany, GA.


Barry at 28 when we married. 
While I've been laid up with first one malady and then another the past month, I've used my time to go through old photos, slides, and albums. How young we were that summer day we met. We had no idea where life would take us but we only cared about one thing. We wanted to be together. Boy, did we have fun! He had the greatest sense of humor and could always make me laugh any time he wanted. When he sang to me and played his guitar, I could not believe that I, shy and self-conscious, was the one he had chosen. He was charming. He lit up a room when he entered and he had that quality right up until his death.
I was a brand new fourth grade teacher and he, recently discharged from the U.S. Army, worked as manager of the Luggage and Gift Store. I couldn't cook when we married but he never complained. When I ruined a meal, he said, “Let’s just have peanut butter sandwiches.”


He loved the mountains and so did I. He loved dogs and so did I. We both loved convertibles and each had new ones when we married. He taught me to ride motorcycles, and I taught him to ride horses.

Barry Beall


Looking back over the 45 years we shared, I realize what held us together through good and tough times was our commitment to our marriage and the fact that I didn't think I could live without him in my life. I never allowed the word divorce to enter our conversations, no matter how angry or upset we were with each other. I tried to support him in everything he did, and he was my biggest cheerleader.

At Halloween, Barry became Lonzo Carpe, the old man you see here. At parties no one recognized him. He stayed in character all evening. 
Our ambitions were not to make tons of money, but to enjoy our relationship, to take care of each other and to glean all of life’s greatest joy out of every day.  
When I make my gratitude list, I always find something about Barry to put on that list, and I don’t think I will ever run out of items.

Our first Christmas at our mountain house in 1995 with Kodi, our beloved Samoyd.


5 comments:

DJan said...

What a wonderful tribute to a wonderful person. Thank you for sharing your story of Barry and introducing me to him. Happy Anniversary, Glenda. I know he is still part of your life, even today. :-)

abbiescorner said...

There were times when all my late husband wanted for supper was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. After his strokes when he could no longer cook, I fixed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for him and something else for me. Thank you for sharing this.

Glenda Beall said...

Thank you, DJan. I'm glad you enjoyed meeting Barry who was indeed a special person to all who knew him. This anniversary will always be important to me.

Glenda Beall said...

Abbie, Barry was not a peanut butter and jelly person, but a peanut butter and mayo man. I love PBJ, myself, or peanut butter and honey, but never wanted to try the peanut butter and mayonnaise.
I think Barry would have lived on peanut butter if I hadn't learned to cook and he wouldn't have cared. He also drank milk, all his life, at mealtimes.

Gay said...

thanks for taking me down memory lane with you, Glenda. It's always nice to reminisce about Barry and his impact on all our lives. Stu and I loved him so very much and still miss him.