Flag Day, June 14

On Flag Day, June 14, 1964, I awoke anxious and teary. You would have thought I was on my way to the gallows. My beloved called me and all I could do was cry. "What in the world is wrong?" he asked.
"I don't know. I just can't stop crying."
That was how my wedding day began. I have heard of grooms passing out and bride's jitters, but I was a basket case. My sweet mother kept reassuring me that if I didn't want to go through with the wedding it was all right. But that was not my problem. I wanted to get married,  but I was terrified of getting married. What if I was making a huge mistake? Would my life be ruined?
But then I'd think about him and I couldn't imagine my life without him.

By the time I reached the First Methodist Church,  my anxiety had become nervous laughter. I couldn't stop smiling and laughing. The wedding took place at 3:00 PM. I barely remember the ceremony.

 I remember that I was doing well until my brothers came through the receiving line. They looked so serious -- almost as if they were attending a funeral. Then I began to bawl again.

What did Barry's mother and father think? They probably were afraid their son had married some kind of a mental case. Luckily they had known me for almost a year.

On that lovely sunny day, much like today -- which would have been our 47th  anniversary --I embarked on a journey with the kindest man, the wittiest man, a man who would protect me and do all he could to make me happy. What a journey with its ups and downs, its peaks and deep valleys that we traveled together never giving up on each other or our marriage, even when days were darkest.

I loved his family and he loved mine. We felt we had it all, and we did. We really had all that mattered.

Miracle of Love

                     for Barry

You brought me spring in winter.

The cold melted away,

as jonquils bloomed

and tulips tilted delicate edges
toward the sun.

You brought me sunshine
in the storm.
As dark clouds raced past,
you opened mirrors in blue sky
to reflect the butterflies.

You brought me youth when I was old,
you found my childhood self.
You touched my soul with tenderness,
a touch of love so deep
my spirit wept.

I wore many bridesmaid dresses from the time I was a teenager until I was in my twenties as my friends swept down the aisles to marry the men of their dreams. I wanted a church wedding, the white dress and all the trimmings, when my special day arrived, but I had no idea how much it would cost. I couldn't imagine my parents coming up with money for flowers, food, and fancy dresses. But Mother wanted that wedding for me and I'll never know where she found the funds. We were married in the First Methodist Church and my brother Ray escorted me to the altar because my father said he'd never given anything away and he wasn't about to start with me. He was joking, but, at the time I was hurt by his refusal to "give me away." With time I've gained a better understanding. I think he felt the experience would be way too emotional for him, a quiet and shy man, to handle. It was a lovely wedding I'm told. I cried all morning from "nerves" and then couldn't stop laughing like a ninny. What a mess I was! I'm sure my family and friends thought I'd lost my mind. I've seen brides and grooms on Funniest Home Videos faint dead away before they could utter the words I do. I suppose I should be grateful I didn't do that. In my white wedding gown tiered in lace and wearing a lace mantilla, I gazed at myself in the mirror as I waited to make the walk that would change my life. I felt like a butterfly fresh out of a cocoon, and just as fragile. Leaving home to live with a man I'd known for one year and promising to live with him the rest of my life? Had I made a horrible mistake? The year was 1964. We celebrated 44 years together in June.