Diamond Anniversary: Romance & Reality

Today, my parents celebrate their diamond anniversary (that's 60 years, folks). That is a very long time. They have been married through eleven presidents, seven popes, and far more important to them: two kids, five grandkids and nineteen homes.

They are very much of The Greatest Generation. They were born & raised in Minnesota and grew up during the Depression. Dad joined the Marines in September of 1941, finishing Boot Camp in time for Pearl Harbor. He spent most of the war in California and North Carolina ~ the year-and-a-half in Samoa he downplays. He wanted to be a fighter pilot, instead he maintained runways. He says he's not really war vet because he never saw combat. I disagree, he was in easy roundtrip distance of the Japanese base in Kiribati and it is a reasonable assumption that American pilots (and their postwar progeny) consider him a vet and appreciate his service. Mom spent the war in a small farm town and probably suffered as much privation as Dad. She didn't have to worry about being bombed, but she had no luxuries like indoor plumbing.

Ruth & Frank's wedding day.

Mom graduated on D-Day and promptly moved to Minneapolis. Dad was discharged and went to LA to drive streetcars. A few years later, Dad moved back to Minneapolis and attended the University of Minnesota. About the same time, Mom moved to San Francisco. Towards the end of the Korean War, Dad joined the Navy. Home on leave, he met a girl at a party who suggested he look her up if was ever in Frisco. Then the Navy sent him around the world.

Come spring, his ship returned to the US and stopped for a week in San Francisco. Finally, they were in the same city at the same time. Frank called the girl, who had started dating someone in the meantime. The girl convinced her roommate to show the sailor around town. At last, Frank met Ruth. They began dating. Ruth moved back to Minneapolis and the Navy sent Frank to DC. Romance progressed quickly, they met in late spring and by September, Frank called Ruth to propose. They married in December and headed to Washington and their first home together.

In time, they lived in Virginia, Florida, Maine, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Arizona, Illinois & Minnesota. They drove up and down the Eastern Seaboard more times than they could count. Their first child was born while Dad was thousands of miles away. Mom battled cancer. Dad finished his stint in the Navy and enlisted in the Coast Guard. Suddenly, they were living together more than they were apart. Dad kept getting transferred; Mom kept packing & unpacking the household. But now, for the first time, they could be together for extended periods.

In Hawaii, after their twentieth anniversary.

They moved. And moved. Adopted a child. Bought a house. Got transferred. Moved again. Then Dad retired from the Coast Guard and they moved to Minnesota. And never moved again. (Kidding ~ eight homes after the military.) They bought a house and settled down. They got jobs and raised their kids. They joined the American Legion and the VFW. They studied ballroom dancing. We travelled on vacations. None of my friends did that. But the peripatetic years had left their mark, my parents wouldn't settle for the same four walls day after day.

In Canada, about twenty years ago.

They've never stood still. In their fifties, they joined a hiking club, an RV club and ~ to the extreme horror of their adolescent daughter ~ took up square dancing. They took vacations without the kids (also something no one else did in the early eighties). For over twenty years they wintered in Arizona.  And they kept traveling. A year-and-a-half ago, we went to South Carolina for my uncle's birthday. This past summer, it was the South Dakota border for a 70th high school reunion. They don't travel alone anymore, but they still get out and do things.

Between them, there have been four cancers, a pacemaker, a permanent catheter and several other medical delights. The morning Mom got her pacemaker, Dad poured her a cup of coffee before remembering she was in the hospital. Mom gets him to all his doctor's appointments. Every time he is hospitalized with another infection, she worries that this is the last time.

Some days, they just plug along ~ others, they revel in. This year, Dad saved his Bingo winnings so Mom wouldn't know he was buying anything and had me pick up a bracelet for her birthday. He's 93 and still sweet on her. She's 88 and still happy to be his wife.

They've cleaned dirty diapers & dog poo. They've danced & seen the country. They go to church together every week. They still like to go out to dinner together. They (usually) have tremendous patience with each other and the curve balls life throws. They don't dance anymore, but they still enjoy music. They are adorable together. They have fun and laugh with each other, sometimes at each other. Through them, I've learned the importance of taking marriage seriously, but not taking myself too seriously.

Last year, at brunch. My flash was too slow, I missed the kiss.

Happy Anniversary Mom & Dad!