Yesterday, my parents celebrated their 50 year anniversary! Happy anniversary mom and dad! Here is the letter my dad wrote to the family email group:
My Dearest Family,
It was on this day in 1958 that a very young man who had not yet seen his 18th birthday took an even younger woman just 3 months past her 17th birthday across the Tennessee line into Mississippi to the little town of Cornith, a town best known for its role in the Civil War more than performing wedding ceremonies. It was in this small town that they swore their vows to one another. That for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health they would remain together until death do them part. In the intervening years since that day Peggy and I have known both the good times and the hard times. It is my firm conviction that one cannot fully appreciate the good times without knowing the bad times. I wish this was not true but unfortunately it is. We buried our first son when we were just 19 . We lived in small one bedroom apartments with rented furniture for the first years of our marriage. We lived in places where the snow was axle deep to a Ferris wheel and in places where 20 below was the high of the day. When we first set up house keeping my pay was $32 every two weeks and Peggy got a $92 a month allotment check. We ate our share of meatless meals in those days. Beans and cornbread suited us just fine. The military did not pay nearly as good as it does now.
Our second son, Michael was born on the island of Okinawa, far away from family and friends. Michele was born in Nashville, Tennessee while I was away on another overseas tour. As time went on and I got higher in rank and Peggy got better jobs we were able to enjoy life a little more. Although our children never had the luxury of having anything they wanted, they always had everything they needed. Peggy and I saw to that.
Well, somehow the years have slipped by. The noise and confusion of little kids running in and out, then young teenagers getting ready for their dates, has been replaced with the quiet solitude of reading or watching a little television, and going to bed at 8 o’clock. Most think that 50 years is a long time. Trust me, it is not. It seems like only last week when Peggy and I were worrying about where we were going to get the $15 to make our monthly furniture rental payment. However, I probably love Peggy more today than I did when we were first married. At the young age of 17 it is not love you have, but emotion. Love comes with sharing a lifetime of dreams together, sharing the good times and the bad, and of not being able to imagine life without being together. Love is indeed the “tie that binds.” Again, you trust me folks, 50 years is not that long. I am looking forward to the next 50.
In Love,
Ernest