If you’ll allow me to step off the historic cooking
path for a few moments…
Today, June 17, would’ve been my parents 60th
wedding anniversary.
They were married on this date in 1950, which
was a Saturday that year, in Robertson Chapel,
located on the campus of Butler University (yes,
THAT Butler), in Indianapolis, Indiana. Or, as my
mother always reminded me, their wedding was
on Bunker Hill Day. This, she cheerily said, while
seeming to ignore her own note-worthy day.
Unfortunately, neither parent is still around
to celebrate this major marital milestone.
My dad didn’t even make it to Number 50.
My mother did, though. A friend of hers
took her to lunch to mark the day ten
years ago. That kind gesture meant alot
to her, for she spoke of it often during her
remaining years. I’m sure she would’ve
rather celebrated with my dad, however.
When Number 40 came ’round, there was
a huge celebratory party to mark the annual
occasion. I know they both thought it was
great fun having all their friends, plus a few
relatives, together in one room at one time.
Of course, today I’m saddened that my
folks are no longer around to celebrate
this special day (or any other, for that
matter). I miss them both terribly. I miss
that my dad knew so much about nearly
everything (or so it seemed), and that
he always had just the correct answer
to any question. I often long now for
his guidance on some sticky situation
or tough issue. He had an easy-going
way about him. Things didn’t bother
him much. At least, not for long. And
then there was his sense of humor.
I like to think that that is perhaps
something we shared. Oh! The jokes
and stories he told every night at our
dinner table.
As for my mother, well, what can I say?
She was my mother, and I was her little
girl. She was my biggest fan, and she
gave her undying support for all I did.
Although she had a PhD, and would’ve
rather continued her career as a college
professor, she was a typical stay-at-home
mom during my early years. It was just
what women did in the 1950s and early
60s. In doing so, however, she shaped
my value system and built my character;
she was largely responsible for who I am
today. In recent years, after I moved
here to the Big Bad City, she came often
to visit. Oh! The adventures we had.
Though I miss those times we shared,
I treasure the memories that linger still.
Both of my parents were intelligent, well-read
and well-educated individuals.They certainly
set the standard pretty high. Both of them
loved to travel. Both were active in local groups
and community organizations. Both just simply
loved life and lived it to the fullest. Sure, there
were the occasional ups and downs, but overall,
they were one well-oiled team. I’m glad these
two souls were my parents. I was privileged
to have had them in my life, leading the way
and showing me how to be, for all those years.
I was truly blessed.
There’s so much more that I could say, but…
well, dagnabit, there’s something in my eyes….
So, I’ll end this with a heartfelt
Happy 60th Anniversary, Mom and Dad!
Love you.
