50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #2

I am realizing it's going to be hard to pick out which memories of many years together to pick out. I may not go chronologically and maybe it will be haphazard--like my daily rabbit trails.

Facts: 

We met on January 31, 1975

First date February 2, 1975

About May 17 George gave me a lilac bush. He knew it was my favorite flower. We planted it at my parents' house. It is still there but doesn't do very well in the shady spot, but it's still alive.

We became engaged on May 24, 1975--how could I say no to someone who gave me lilacs?

This is my poor lilac bush, still hanging in there 50 years later.

He asked me to marry him in the parking lot of the Chart House in Avon, another spot we sometimes went to for a drink upstairs. I still have the little champagne bottle from when we celebrated there.

We picked out our rings together in one day of running around to several places. We ended up picking out our rings at George's Jewelers in Westfield, MA. We have driven by and we see it is still in business. We should really stop by someday. 

After running around that day, we were late to see his mother when we were going to tell her the news. Because we were late, she was upset with us. You never wanted to cross his mother. She did come around, in time, as she always did. 

I always dreamed of a fall wedding, so when picking the date, it was either the fall of that year or wait over a year. We did not want to wait, so November 1st was chosen, a mere nine months from when we met. 

My easy choice of attendants were two friends I became close with at work and one childhood friend: Kathy Quick, Joanne Bazzano and Janice Senter. George chose his brother, Al and two childhood friends: Rob Harrington and Joe Sverni. George's niece, Lisa Namey was chosen at flower girl, and his nephew, Scott Batky, as ring bearer. 

Memorabilia from the day:

We were married at Norfolk Congregational Church by Reverand Bruce Anderson. Our wedding reception was at Dileo's Grove. I have to find the spelling of the name of our photographer, something like John (Jean) Rebeuff. He had a French accent and kept us in stitches. The weather was the most perfect autumn day nearly 70 degrees.