Thursday, November 15, 2012

Home Wrecker inspiration

How about some inspiration?

Here is a little story written by my boyfriends father. He has already written his autobiography! In this story he talks about being married for 68 years.
Now get out the tissues just in case! I know I needed one.

Today marks our 68th wedding anniversary. I can't believe our God has given us 88 years of life to reach this point in our lives.  I remember the first time I laid eyes on Lyn, my bride.  I had just completed Navy boot camp in Chicago and was transferred to Alameda, California.
I heard there were free dances for servicemen at the Oakland YWCA every night. One evening I decided to attended  as I loved to dance. At that time, as a seaman 1st class, I was only making $50 a month and had to take advantage of all freebies.  I even thought I was a good dancer.  I had been told so in high school by the girls with whom I danced.
I was sitting on the balcony when I saw this beautiful red head approach the receptionist.  It appeared she was having some difficulty being admitted.  I kept watching her until she looked my way and gave me her warm, beautiful, engaging smile. I don't know what attracted me to her as I only liked blondes or brunettes.   I followed her into the dance hall and asked her to dance.  Several men kept cutting in on me but I was persistent and did the same to them.  They finally gave up and I had her to myself for the rest of the evening. However, once during a jitterbug number and tossing her around, my arm somehow became entangled in her string of pikake shells she was wearing.  They sprayed all over the dance floor. I was so embarrassed and began picking up the shells when she assured me it was okay.  They were old beads and didn't matter to her.
When the dance was over I asked her if I could see her home.  She said no but after noticing that it was dark outside she agreed that I could walk her to the train.  I complimented her on her cute hat she was wearing which made some points with her.  I also walked on her left side as a man, at that time, was expected to do.  At the train station I asked if I could see her again.
I could go on forever about our courting days as they were filled with more cheap dates, like touring a cemetery and reading all of the headstones.  Or going roller skating, where she fell and I brushed her skirt off.
It took me 14 months of continuous dating for her to finally agree to marry me.  My patience have multiplied into 68 years of wedded bliss and still praying for many more.

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