Six Weeks to Always

My parents, taken at I believe my sister's wedding in 1978.

My parents, together. on the sofa, sometime in the 70s.

It broke all the rules.

It wasn't supposed to work if you did it this way.

But somehow it did.  For well over fifty years.  And if my mother was still alive, it would be 61 years today.

Prom season 1952.  My Dad, the young school teacher, was going to have to be a chaperon at the school dance.  His friends, the Niners, thought he shouldn't have to go alone.  So they enticed a friend of theirs to keep him company at this dance.  In order to win her over, they told her that he looked like Gregory Peck. So Peggy Marie Martin, 20 years old met Eugene Everett Strait, 30.  They were married six weeks later.

My mother was already engaged, to a boy who was in the navy and stationed in Korea.  It didn't matter.  I can't say whether the boy was a good person or bad person.  All I can say he wasn't the right person, at least for my mother.

They were married on July 12, 1952.  This was only six weeks after their blind date. In theory, that was impulsive and should not have worked.  In practice, it worked for always.

No marriage is perfect.  Character quirks and compromises and moments of discord exist.  But genuine love and caring abide and endure.

My mother left this plane on October 19, 2008.  So it would seem that the marriage lasted 56 years, 3 months and 7 days.  But that is only what it seems.  I'm afraid my father would disagree with you.

For him, today, they have been married 61 years.

He is still in love with the girl he met at the prom.

He closes his eyes, and he is holding her, in his arms, on the sofa.  He is at a dance, Here in My Heart playing.

He is in love.

Six weeks and always.


UPDATE:  On September 22, 2013, my father rejoined my mother.  For always.