Last night, I realized it was the eve of what would have been my Mom and Dad’s 65th wedding anniversary.
The weather was fine leading into September 5, 1954 — like ours is today. Mom would have been getting ready at the parsonage and Dad at the farm.
They had an evening, candlelight ceremony,
and the church was full.
Back in the day, someone did wedding write-ups for the local papers. Given that Mom was a Preacher’s daughter and Dad was from a family of 14 children, there were many interested readers, and a write-up was published in the Hankinson News September 15. Their wedding photo was printed in that same weekly paper on September 23.
You can almost feel the joy the journalist took in doing the “write-up,” and they did a wonderful job. I read it and can feel myself inside the church, watching the nervous groom and waiting for the bride. I feel the love from all those who were in the wedding, and those who helped and attended the service to fulfill the dreams of a young couple in love.
Mom and Dad did not have an easy life by any means, but they had love and all that comes with it — joy, happiness, babies, stubborn teenagers, arguments, compromises, wins, heartbreak, and they always kept their faith.
While most of my family is notoriously shy about being photographed, I have these photos, a glimpse into Mom and Dad’s lives.
I hope there are families surrounding their loved ones,
so they will not fall.
These days, it seems there are more than enough tragedies to go around. I hope someone, somewhere is gathering on this very evening, celebrating the beginning of their lives together or maybe celebrating 65 years of marriage.
I hope they know what a precious thing a life spent with someone you love should be, can be; and I hope there are families surrounding their loved ones, so they will not fall.