They met when she was sixteen and he, twenty-one. In three short years they married. She loved to dance; he was not very good at it. Years later, he laughed when his daughter called him on to the dance floor for her wedding. His wedding was a three-day affair. Polish weddings were like that. Ever the prankster, he pretended to fall coming down the church steps. In truth, he had fallen hard for her ... love at first sight according to her girlfriend. She was supposed to date his older brother. She chose him instead. He considered himself a lucky man.
They both were children of immigrants who settled in the same section of town. As first-generation Americans they spoke English but were equally at home speaking Polish. He was a banjo man; making music came naturally to him. He was also an auto-body welder, earning a steady paycheck at one company for 40 years. He was as loyal to the company as he was loyal to his wife.
I think that's what I loved most about my parents - their faithfulness to each other. They were married almost 50 years before my Dad died. When he died suddenly, my best friend remarked: "That was the only irresponsible thing your Dad ever did."
He was a good man, a simple man. He had his values in place. She was the woman he loved from the moment he saw her. He never wavered.
Do you remember the parable in the Bible where the kingdom of heaven is compared to a wedding feast? I picture all my relatives who have passed on at this wedding, dancing in a circle. The aunts, uncles, cousins who may have feuded in life are all dancing together and so, so happy. And my Dad no longer has two left feet. He and my Mom are out there in the middle of the circle in each other's arms, the bridal couple of course.
8 comments:
Thank you
Elaine, I'm always struck by how much you look like your mom. It's amazing!
xoxokatieface
ps It all makes sense now-- I now know the origins of your son's fierce loyalty streak...
beautiful. just warm fuzzies and good. good. good. thanks.
Wow! I had to wipe a few tears away. That was a beautiful thing to share. Thanks!
sweetest, ever.
(also, does he have his hand on her -ahem- boob in the second picture? is that why they're smiling?)
Yes, about the boob ... a couple friends laughingly remarked the same thing. However, look at how they both are posing ... she's holding on to a rail and him to keep her balance and he's also trying to keep his balance after jumping up in back of her.
LOL "Banjo man" He liked to stroke things. I love the relaxed nature of the shot and the way he's pushed his hat back. His beloved Hamburg :>)
I suddenly realized that, somewhere, I have a tiny picture of them kissing under a tree and that it must have been taken on the same day as these two photos. I can tell by the dress my mom had on and by my dad's suit and the satisfied grin on his face :>)
I never saw too much physical expression of affection between them as I was growing up; that is, in my presence. But youth, ah youth ... kissing under a tree.
Great story.
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