September Bride...

My parents were married on September 26, 1945 and although they always acknowledged the date somehow, I only remember going out for dinner once as a family to celebrate their fortieth anniversary. Mom wore a dress and jacket she had sewn and Dad wore his Sunday-go-to-Meetin' clothes which consisted of his cowboy boots, fresh shirt and pants, his bolero tie and horse-hide vest. The others in attendance were, Dad's sister Judy, my sister and her son, my two kids, their father and me. I can still see us trying to pose for photos out on the lawn after dinner. Dad had his fill at the Beefeater and shared what he thought about going out for dinner and 'paying those prices' when he could have as good, if not better, meal at home. I think that was intended as a compliment to my Mother's cooking but her glare and deaf ears were also part of her evening ensemble. My kids were getting tired, Aunt Judy might have been a few sheets to the wind and I was trying in vane not to be outshone by my sister. The photo was never frame-worthy but it's still a precious memory. Their fiftieth anniversary was a bit better.

I was going through a divorce and quite wrapped up in my own life when my Mom asked me if I would go to City Bakery to pick up a cake she'd ordered. I cheerfully complied. Imagine my surprise when the baker showed me this large sheet cake that said, "Happy Fiftieth Anniversary Ethel and Ted". I had forgotten all about their anniversary, never mind that it was a milestone. I asked Mom why she needed such a large cake and she replied, "For the open house tomorrow at one." She had invited friends to come to the house and celebrate the occasion and hadn't told me. At least I didn't remember her telling me. So I called my brother in Calgary and told him that it would be a great if he and his wife could attend. I was able to get the day off work so I could play hostess. It was a beautiful day. The sun shone bright and warm as the leaves cascaded lazily from the trees to the lawn below like confetti. We took pictures again. Mom and Dad with the bridesmaids, Sybil and Anne. Mom and Dad with Doreen and Hazel. Mom and Dad with my brother and me. Dad unsmiling, Mom smiling enough for both of them. At least forty people came and went. Mom had prepared finger sandwiches and borrowed the big coffee urn from the church. Everyone had a piece of the cake. Dad sat glowering in the kitchen, Mom was lit up like a Christmas tree visiting with all her friends. It was a wonderful event and I was so glad that my brother and I were able to attend. When I asked Mom why she hadn't let me know she was planning it she told me that she figured I had enough going on. That was my Mom, always thinking of the other guy. 

On this date one year ago, I asked my Mom about her wedding day. This was all she could tell me. "It was sunny - we got married in St Barnabas church - we had an open house after the ceremony - we went to Lethbridge on the train for our honeymoon." She could only remember the high points, the details were lost. It made me wish I'd asked sooner or asked her to write it down when her memory could still be trusted. But I didn't, so all I have are the photos now, which are precious enough. My parents made a handsome couple; Dad with his movie star good looks and Mom with her tall willowy frame and million dollar smile. Two of her four brothers were groomsmen. John, on the left was the youngest and Walt, on the right was the second oldest. Mom's favorite brother, Tom had been killed in the war just eleven months before the wedding. I can only imagine the hole in her heart that his loss made that day. I don't know where her eldest brother Ed was. Mom always said he was a bit aloof. Mom's attendants were Sybil Taylor on the right and Annie Nikiel on the left. Sybil and Walt had dated at one time. Mom and Sybil became dear friends. Annie and Mom were neighbors growing up and friends all their lives. Annie was the last bridesmaid standing until this year. She passed away just three weeks after Mom. 

These two people, my parents - made a life together. They stood up, put up and shut up to make it work. They lived to celebrate fifty-seven years together. 

The rest is pixie dust...