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How to Stay Married For 46 (70) Years… and Still Counting

Actually, 70 years, but the first 25 years kinda sorta don’t count!

The first time I met my future wife, I had fallen on top of her when we were simultaneously tossed out of a wagon together. I was the lucky one because I landed on top of her, our heads bumped at the wrong angle, and she got a cut forehead, which left a nice little scar for proof. I was 3, and she was 2!

Her name is Sue.

Our dads had been friends since grade school. They were two of the five or six boys that went everywhere together. As they got older, they drifted away some, but still kept in touch from time to time.

One time, in their high school years, they were all involved in a car crash with several of them receiving some rather nasty scars, including my dad. But, that was just some teenage shenanigans — they all survived.

As they grew into their late teens, they each found the girl of their dreams and got married, just as World War II broke out. They entered different branches of the Armed Forces at nearly the same time, and each served their country admirably until the war eventually ended.

When they got out of the service, they were among the first families to start the baby boom generation, which brings me back to that wagon ride gone awry. Some say it was Sue’s oldest brother, Bobby Joe, who overturned the wagon, while others say it was brother, Billy, who did the dastardly deed. Whichever way it happened, I’m sure they had no idea it would turn out like this.

From time to time the two families would get together to play cards or go on picnics together. They attended each other’s kids’ birthday parties, celebrated Christmas, and went to New Year’s Eve parties. When all of them would meet to play poker, there was always plenty of beer to go around, which added to their merriment.