Remembering November 9th, 1968…

Six days ago was the 41st anniversary of my first wedding.  The sunny weather was the same, but other than that, things could not be more different!  The groom died two years ago, but we were long divorced.  My parents are both gone now.  His father died many years ago, though his mother is still alive, although she is nearly blind and hard of hearing.  I’m older now than any of the parents were at that wedding…

We were so young, never even considering what love and commitment really meant.  I suppose that is no different than a lot of young people when they marry, although our children were much wiser in their choices.  Their marriages have lasted a lot longer than ours did, thank goodness.  I hope they continue “’til death do us part.”   I look at myself now and look at myself then, and I’m so startled at what I’ve become–a senior citizen!   That is better than the fate of my first husband…

Now I realize that all the things I worried about then were really nothing much, other than the terrible war my young husband experienced.  It changed him profoundly, to the point that he was never the same.  I doubt that our marriage would have lasted anyway, but I will always be sad that he didn’t have a happier life, although he did find true love with someone else.  We were never meant to be, except for our two daughters and the wonderful children they have given to the world.

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I looked at my Facebook page tonight and decided that I have been wasting my words there.  No one cares about what I say or even that I am there.  I didn’t care about it at all until recently, when I started checking people’s friend status compare to mine and decided that it is too much like high school always was for me. This is obviously not good for my psyche.  Lose the link–if anyone cares to comment, the message will come to my email!

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