June 14 – Flag Day and my wedding anniversary

I photographed the pictures in my wedding book and there is a glare on each one. 

June 14 is Flag Day in America. 

Barry and I were married June 14, fifty-one years ago, in the First Methodist Church in Albany, Georgia. I could not possibly forget my anniversary because flags are always flying on that day.

I remember being so nervous and anxious that I cried all morning. I could not quit crying no matter what. The more I cried the more I feared that I would be bawling my eyes out as I walked down the aisle.

Finally someone gave me a tranquilizer that calmed my jitters so I could go on with the wedding. I loved my wedding dress with the layers of lace and the mantilla over my hair. Mother and I found it in Moultrie, Georgia. On a school teacher’s salary, I had little money to spend and wondered if I would find a pretty dress, but the perfect dress was waiting for me and it had a very reasonable price tag.

My sister, Gay, was my maid of honor and Barry’s brother, Richard, was his best man. The day is still a blur to me. But once we were in the car and on our way to Gatlinburg, TN where we spent the most marvelous week, I was the happiest bride on earth.

Isn't my sister beautiful? She is helping put on the blue garter I wore. Every bride had a picture posed this way in the sixties. 

When I remember how young we were and how unprepared for marriage, the ups and downs we would face, the stresses of making ends meet on two small salaries, learning to live with someone who had habits different from mine, and getting to know the families we were now a part of, I am so grateful that my parents never interfered or tried to give us advice. We worked out our problems on our own. His parents seemed to be very happy for us, and my family had fallen for Barry early on. Why not? No one could resist him.

My sister, Gay, me, Barry and Richard Beall. Were we really that young? 

To me marriage was a commitment for life. “For better or for worse, till death do we part.” No matter how upset I became, I knew we could compromise and work things out. I never let the thought of divorce enter our conversations or enter my thoughts. 

Communication is the key to solving most disagreements, I believe. When two people love each other and want their marriage to work, if they can speak in rational terms, an agreement can be found. Each one must be willing to give 100 percent. 

Barry has been gone from me for six years, but his spirit is here all the time, in this house. Someone asked me if having his pictures around me didn’t make me sad. No, they bring me pleasure. They bring back wonderful memories. Making memories that live on when loved ones are gone is part of being human. If a photo brings tears to my eyes, that is Okay. To cry is to show the love we have for one who is gone. We can’t be afraid to feel love, to feel grief and pain. To live is to know joy and sorrow. 

In the picture above, we are dressed to leave the wedding reception at the church and start our new life together. What a life we had! If only that young girl had known what I know now, but she had to learn on her own that life will not always be as perfect as it was that day. She survived losses she thought she couldn't endure and difficulties of various kinds, but in surviving she grew stronger. She knew happiness she had never imagined she would experience. 

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.