Twenty-five Years (And Counting)

Here we are the day of.

And this one was taken about 5 years ago, under the same tree.

Can it really be 25 years? Seems like only yesterday. Seems like a life-time.

What it is, is wonderful.

I love you, Stan.

An Anniversary

Where my father still alive, this would be my parents 66th wedding anniversary. My mother still misses him.

Here they are on their wedding day.

So young!

An Anniversary

My computer has been down and I am only now getting back up to speed

This is a picture of Mom and Dad on their wedding day, November 27th, 1943. They look so young and yet they were 26 and 27.

I decided to go ahead and post this because it’s not every year that Thanksgiving falls on my parent’s wedding anniversary. Were Dad alive, it would have been their 65th.

Their’s was a rather whirl-wind romance. They got married in Puerto Rico after only six months. My father’s mother (we called her Nana) confessed to my mother years later, that she had concerns her son was going to bring home an exotic dark-skinned woman. Despite whatever fears and/or prejudices Nana may have had, she wrote this letter to my mother, which Mom faithfully preserved in her Wedding Album. It is dated, November 12, 1943. Nana was writing from California.

My dear Erva: -

John has written a beautiful letter about you & has told us how much he loves you & how happy you have made him. We are all so glad to have you one of our family & wish you all the peace and happiness any girl could dream of. When John went away from P. R. he mentioned having met a girl he hoped to see again and now – that’s wonderful for him.

He has never been much of a gallant so you must have been able to see through his shyness & reserve. I am more glad than I can tell that you care for him – His brothers always had girls, coming and going, but he never did, & I always knew that when he really fell in love it would be forever.

No matter what misfortunes befall there is truly only one in life anyway.

You can depend on one thing & that is that you will not find me an interfering mother-in-law – In Puerto Rico or California –

We all wish so much that we could be present at your wedding and we really will be – in spirit any way.

Will you write me your true wishes regarding a wedding present as I asked John & he no doubt told you.

I am sure you are very busy with plans and preparations etc - & I am finding it hard to think of anything except you & John – He has always been a bit absent minded at times so if he forgets something just prod him a bit –

With lots of love,
Vivian Braendlin

Here they are about a year later at the Rose Room of the "World Famous Palace Hotel" in San Francisco (which is still in operation.) Doesn’t Dad look spiffy in his sailor suit? And Mom, fresh from Puerto Rico, and no doubt still speaking English with a strong Spanish accent, not only looks confident, but beautiful.

Sigh.

An Anniversary

Today is our 23rd. Hard to believe Stan and I have been married that long. But then again it isn’t hard at all.

He has become my best friend.

Here we are under the elm. Ahhh, isn’t that sweet?

Our honeymoon consisted of one night in San Antonio. We stayed at the Emily Morgan. Our room had a view of the Alamo. We decided to take a romantic carriage ride and got a tour of back alleys and construction sites.

We had to get back home the next day because we needed to return the port-a-san we had rented. You know port-a-san? It’s one of those portable potties. Anyway we wrestled it up onto the bed of a pick-up we borrowed and because we didn’t have any tie-downs the maximum speed we could go was about 45 MPH. Any faster and the thing might have blown over. I’m sure your imagination can picture what a mess that would have been. Going 45 meant we couldn’t take the interstate home, we had to take a back road.

To this day we refer to that back road as the Port-a-san road. Or if we are going between 40 and 45 MPH we are going port-a-san speed.

When my sweetie asks, “Port-a-san, my dear?” I know he is asking me one of two things. Would I like to take that particular road to get to where we need to go, or would I like to go for a slow scenic drive?

Port-a-san anyone? It’s a way to slow down and smell the roses.