It's time to post this again -- first posted this two years ago -- and here we are, survivors of two more years! Here's the story of 'us' --
It all started with two dumb kids ...
We met in an English class in Abilene, Texas, during summer school.
I had just returned to Abilene Christian from Australia a few months earlier.
When WannabeHubby called my parents in Australia to ask 'permission' to marry me, he said something to my dad like, "With your permission I would like to marry your daughter..."
I figure that was probably not the choicest way to begin a conversation with Dad ... for the very first time.
My dad said, "May I speak with my daughter?"

So ... several months later, my parents and sister Sarah came home on 'furlough' from Sydney.
Sarah, five years younger (she always brags) and who had inherited our great grandmother's wedding band, gave me 'something borrowed' to wear ... it also doubled as 'something old' ...
My foster sister Barbara who had come to live with our family when I was 13, helped me with make-up and all that other girl-fluff-stuff.
My mother wanted to make sure my veil was just right.
After all, I was her first child to marry.
It had to be perfect.
But, read on ... it wasn't.
Mother always needed to make sure she had plenty of tissues ...
or was she, perhaps, praying??

Sarah was my 'Maid of Honor' ...

My brother Raymon was the 'Best Man' ...
Somehow, while the men were waiting for the music to start, you know ... in that little room at the front of the auditorium ...
Raymon suddenly remembered something important ...
He had not arranged for the ride for Hubby's parents, who had flown in from California, to get to the church building ...
Uh oh.
In the meantime, Hubby's parents had called the church building to say,
"If you want us there for the wedding, someone had better come and get us ..."
Raymon, at 6'4", could not think of a way to get out of that little room without everyone in the auditorium seeing him and knowing something was wrong.
So he crawled (in his tuxedo) out through the small window, ran around the church building, and enlisted my great uncle Marshall to dash to the motel.
And then somehow he got back into the little room.
Fortunately, I did not know about this at the time.
To further complicate matters, the florist did not bring a lighter for the candles.
And no one seemed to have matches.
The florist wound up going up and down the street, knocking on doors, asking for matches...
Fortunately, I did not know about this at the time.
I do remember, however, asking Mother if I was making a mistake.
Perhaps that is what she was digging in her purse for ... a pill!
During the ceremony, my uncle Byron "enjoyed" the privilege of escorting folks down the aisle, including Hubby's mom.
We were thankful that my great uncle was there to pick them up from the motel!
Byron vowed never to be in a wedding again but (of course) he was.
My cousin Bonnie was my "Bridesmaid" ... my little cousin Julie was my "Flower Girl."
Bonnie is now a grandmother, and Julie is a mommy of three growing kids!
Hubby was the only kid of his parents.
He laughs and says people always asked whose kid he was.
His parents were short; yet, he stood right at 6 feet.
I, on the other hand, had tall parents ~ but I was the runt of their three.
My dad, a Minister for the church of Christ, performed our wedding ceremony.
He preached for 45 minutes.
Our feet fell asleep.
But it was pay-back for that phone call ...

We were glad to finally escape the podium.

My aunt, Martha, made my beautiful wedding gown.
In 1974, sister Sarah wore it in her May wedding.
She and her husband celebrated their 35th wedding anniversary earlier this month ...

Twenty-five years after our wedding, daughter Shannon wore that gown.
And that beautiful veil.
My aunt Marilyn (Uncle Byron's wife) altered the sleeves and other things.
After Shannon's wedding, I had the gown cleaned and preserved.
She is saving it for her daughter, Brayla, in case she would like to wear it one day ...
Our family believes in recycling.
Getting back to May 26, 1970 ... our reception was sweet and very simple ...
My great aunt Lucile did most of the planning, for which I will be eternally grateful.
Especially for those wonderful butter-mints!!
We were married in Corpus Christi, Texas, just up the street from the Bay.
It somehow seemed fitting;
I was born in Corpus Christi, across from the Bay.

And there we were ... two dumb kids off to change the world.
You and I know that time doesn't stand still. Not for anyone. And the world changed.
My precious mother has passed. My beautiful aunt Marilyn who re-did the gown has passed. My great aunt Lucile who planned the reception and great uncle Marshall who picked up Hubby's parents have passed. Both of Hubby's parents, who almost missed the wedding, have passed. My foster sister Barbara has passed, taken by cancer when she was only 36.
But I have been blessed. Hubby and I eventually had three little kids who did not stay little. They grew into marvelous adults, all married now. And there are now six grandchildren, gifts from my daughter and younger son.
No, life doesn't stand still. 39 years bring a lot of change. Wars and rumors of war. Death and sadness. Tears. Moves across the country. Adjustments. Good-byes. New life. Joy. And lots of love.
I tell my kids and young adults I meet -- marriage is for life. It's serious business and very hard work. It takes 100% commitment from both. Has our marriage always been blissful? Not on your life! Did we go through a lot of pain and tears? You bet. Did we ever want to give up ... throw in the towel? Of course. Are we thankful we didn't. Absolutely.