50 Days Remembering 50 years Day #30

Birchwood

I recently rediscovered some very old (50 years to be exact) postcards from the resort that we stayed at on our honeymoon in the Poconos. This was the little plane that we were supposed to ride in on Monday, then Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday--all too windy. Friday was the last chance and they took four people up on one flight. When they came back they said it was too windy and they could only take two and up we went. I had been dreading it every day and George was looking forward to it all week.

Well, I enjoyed it and his hands were sweating (we were holding hands) because he knew it was a rough ride. He did not enjoy it so much. Looking at this postcard now, I am surprised I went on such a small plane and I would be nervous all again should I have the opportunity again. 

This postcard are pictures of the dining areas and the bowling alley. There was a miniature golf course, swimming pool and other activities. If it were still open we would happily return this year. 

This is a postcard we received keeping us up to date on the schedule of the group that entertained us at Birchwood. I guess ruffles were in that year because George wore a ruffled shirt at our wedding.

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #29

I Do? or I Will?

I recently found a recording of when we took our wedding vows. I haven't listened to it. Maybe we should to see how well we have kept those vows. 

But one thing I clearly remember is when the pastor said, "Will you, Debbie take George to be your husband?" I said, "I will." When he asked George "Will you...?" George replied the standard answer that we've seen in all the movies, "I do." 

I was only 22 when we got married. Boy, was I young. So young that I panicked. After we walked down the aisle past our friends and family and after the receiving line, we saw the pastor. I immediately asked him if because George said "I do" instead of "I will" if it was legal? Naive me. Yes, we have been legally married all these years. 

 

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #28

Kids

I guess they are my fault. We did talk briefly about having kids before we got married. It wasn't something that George thought about. I remember telling him that to me, it was having something we created together and having a piece of us to carry on. I guess I convinced him.

The other stipulation I had was we would have more than one. I was not going to have an only child like I was. We also agreed that two was plenty. We did not need a houseful of kids.

Both times it seemed to take a little longer to get pregnant than we had hoped. We were married 3 1/2 years before Tiffany was born. I was hoping for only two years between the kids, but Benjamin came along three years later. This is how we told my parents about the second one--of course, we were there in person when they opened the card.

Tiffany and Benjamin changed our lives immensely. Children are an awesome blessing, expense, joy-bringer, heartbreakers. The good always outweighed the bad. Sure, there were times they had me on my knees in prayer, but there were so many happy and proud moments too. I never realized how hard being a parent was. You question your actions and re-actions. You wonder what you are doing wrong and hope you are doing more things right in bringing up kids. Unfortunately, it's a learn-as-you-go process and there is no turning back once you've messed up. You learn and move forward and try to do better. 

I am forever grateful for my two kids and I am proud of them. They are great human beings and a blessing to the earth--couldn't ask for more than that. Well, they also gave us grandchildren--wow. Until you get there, you don't know how awesome that is! 

As for their names, Tiffany was narrowed down to Tiffany, Bethany and Sabra (George's grandmother). I will admit that the first time I heard the name Tiffany was the name of one of the teens on American Bandstand. For Benjamin, we were taking an old testament Bible study. I loved Elijah. George was afraid he would get teased--too close to Eliza. So, we went with Benjamin Elijah. I was happy when Ben named his youngest son, Elijah Joseph (Joseph after my Dad). He can go by Eli or EJ, but the latter he hasn't taken a liking to, but might one day, who knows?

This is taking so long to do these posts, that I can't dig up all the photos I would like to share. I hope to update at another date. In the meantime, here's some. 

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #27

Follow up to the last post, in my savings (I learned to save from my parents), I found this letter that my parents wrote to me the night before George and I got married. Here is some of it. Now I am wondering did I write to them the night before? I did find a letter after the wedding that I wrote to them. I'll have to re-find that and take pictures for here. Such loving and caring parents. 

50 Days Remembering 50 Years Day #26

Letters

In my parent's savings, I recently found this letter that they saved. It was a letter my husband-to-be wrote to my parents the night before our wedding. Here is part of it. What a sweet thing to do.

50 Days of Remembering 50 years Day #25

In the News

I feel like over the years we have been in newspapers more often than is average. I am taking the easy way out here and just letting these articles speak for themselves. I am sure that I have more and will share them when I find them. 

I will admit that there is one of George and a couple of me that is pre-knowing each other, but I decided to include them. I have also included some articles of relatives. I know there are several more, at least. 

These are just in random order.

Okay, this one my dearest sister friend, Kathy, can be seen but not me sitting next to her. 

It's funny that I saved this one, Kathy and I are way in the back watching the Polar Plunge in Winsted.

I'm sure there are even more!

"For we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works."

Ephesians 2:10

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #24

Parties

Growing up my parents always made sure that I had great birthday parties with games and prizes and food. I carried on their tradition into our new lives.

Our first adult party was a Halloween party. It was a year after we were married. We were living on Stony Hill--that was the name of our first homestead (named by the previous owners who built the house). It was a 450-foot-long driveway and people parked at the bottom of the hill and walked up. We always remember Joe Sverni, one of our groomsmen from the wedding, rented a gorilla outfit and he hid halfway up the driveway behind a tree and scared the heck out of the people walking up! They were all such good sports for that party--a silly scavenger hunt ending with singing something like "OwagooseIam" around a potty chair (try to say it) and having to retrieve the final thing from the potty chair. (it was dark outside, but it was a hot dog.) We were just big kids, I guess. We had silly games--feeding each pudding with a spoon but blindfolded; racing to eat donuts hanging from strings--no hands allowed. I think everyone had a good time. Everyone came in costumes and all participated in everything.

Thus was the beginning. Most of our parties afterwards were children's birthday parties every year. It took weeks to plan the activities and games and goodies and goody bags too. Themes were baseball, dinosaurs and even a theatrical party with an "Academy" award. 

George and I have thrown several milestone birthday parties for each other. He has not been able to surprise me. It's pretty hard to surprise me. I am pretty observant about what's going on. I do appreciate, though, that he did take the initiative. 

I have put a push on me with these daily deadlines for this blog and can't easily find the photos that I would like to include, but in the future, I will try to add some to have for our memories in these posts.

"This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." 

Psalm 118:24

 

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #23

Collections

George's mother collected spoons and salt and pepper shakers. My Mom collected elephants, Beanie Babies and postcards. My Aunt collected Hummels. My Grandmother collected knickknack shoes or slippers. It was just a thing that evolved. Someone would declare something they liked and everyone would often give that person that themed gift at Christmas or birthday. And such collections grew and grew.

My Mom was the fulfiller of collections. If you said you liked a theme, she would forever grow your collection. For me it was lighthouses. I have a pretty great collection of lighthouses--tiny ones and ones that are electric and light up. I had a lighthouse cookie jar and lighthouse dishes. 

It was easy for us to find a souvenir spoon wherever we went for George's mother. I don't know how it started but George had gotten probably a handful of key chains and it was decided he was collecting them. He did put them on a display board and amassed quite a few. That was another easy gift to find. 

Ben collected nutcrackers for a while and Tiffany fancy dolls. Ben was also into baseball cards and other cards and some comic books. Tiffany's biggest collection was these adorable little miniature figures. We thought they had been lost in our basement or attic but a few years ago I found them and happily gave them all back to her one Easter. 

I don't know how many people still collect things of a particular theme. Of course, we have had to tell everyone "No more!". George gave away most of his collection to another collector. I've halted the growth of mine, but have not yet started purging, but after going through my mother's elephants, I probably should do that. Oh, the fun my family is going to have going through the things I save. I think the first thing I saved was paper--yes, paper. I had a paper drawer in my dresser and used scrap paper for writing. I didn't want to be without something to write on. 

I have always had a fascination and can't resist a good rock--one with character. And of course, there are my couple of jars of sea glass--all the pieces were hunted down and captured--a prize from hours of walking the beach. Now I have my Mom's sea glass too. Oh, and I collected stamps from when I was a child--foreshadowing my future postal job? 

George doesn't really collect much else, unless tools and screws and things like that count. He does have a small classic model car collection that my parents helped him with, but then he said, "no more". He has a perfect little display. 

I don't know what makes some of us have that inner drive to save. Why am I a collector (don't call me a hoarder!)? Maybe optimistic people see the potential in everything--like my paper collection, as a child and now other things for craft supplies for the grandkids, or there are other things like George's tools and screws and things that can save us from buying more in the future. Lighthouses are a saving beacon reminding me of Jesus being the light of the world. I like what they represent. Photographs deliver precious memories. Rocks and sea glass are found treasures. I feel like I "earned" them. I have justifications for everything. I still maintain people who collect are optimistic.  

Yes, we have collections. I know we can't take it with us, but it's a hobby and I think it releases dopamine and makes us feel good. I know the minimalists don't understand but I do know it's an internal thing and I also know, this is just an earthly pleasure or curse, whichever way you look at it.  

"But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and rust do not destroy..."

Matthew 6:20

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years day #22

Visting Relatives 

My parents' family were from Salem, NH and Lawrence, MA--quite close to each other. So, at least a couple times of year we made a long day trip, over 2 hours up to spend a day visiting both of my parents' sides of the family. They usually came down to see us once a year too. On Dad's side of the family we visited my grandparents and Uncle Joe, who lived with them. Sometimes we would see other Aunts but typically it was these three. I recently found this newspaper article of my grandparents when they celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, ironically. They used to put these things in local newspapers.

They lived in a small house in Salem, NH. My parents often brought Kentucky Fried Chicken takeout to them. As soon as the meal was done, the table was cleared and the games of setback began. They were serious card players and started me in the game when I was 7 years old. We played as teams and I was often nervous, because I knew they wanted to win. Setback wasn't so bad, but they also played this game called 45's. That game is so confusing, but that was one of their favorites too. I needed a cheat sheet to keep things straight. We did do some visiting too and my Grandmother would bring out her old teddy bear that played a song in French and she would sing along. My grandfather would give kids a ride in a wagon he attached to his riding lawnmower. These simple things became tradition and good memories.

As I've been looking at old memorabilia, I found this note my grandfather had written to my parents but there was an enclosure from my grandfather that said, "jokes for George". It makes me smile to think how he took the time to do this and that it meant that he liked George too. 

On my mother's side we visited her Aunt Helen and Uncle Bill. This visit was usually just talking and catching up. Aunt Helen's place had everything just so and decorated with her Hummels or handmade crafts. Aunt Helen was very blunt, reminding us how much weight we had gained or anything else she wanted to point out. Uncle Bill had a great sense of humor and he would say things to her that only he could get away with. We held our laughter until the ride home.

Of course, visiting relatives was the main reason for our trip, but we always had a couple of sidetrips.

When my mother was still smoking, we would pick up some cigarettes. They were a lot cheaper in New Hampshire. Another "mandatory" stop was Thwaites Market, an English market. We would sometimes get some little meat pies or other foods, but our reason for stopping was for tomato sausage. We would bring a cooler and buy several pounds to put in our freezer--saving one out to enjoy the day after we got home. I have never seen that for sale anywhere else. Fortunately, Thwaites is still open, so if we really get a hankering for tomato sausage, we can take a road trip.

Our other stop was to Granite State Potato Chips. There was a small building that only sold Granite State Potato chips. You could see the potato chips come through a chute and be filled in boxes or, better yet, they sold buckets that you could buy to have it filled and bring them back to re-fill them. We often brought the buckets back from CT (saving them for the trip months later). They didn't sell any fancy flavors or ripples or unsalted--just regular, delicious potato chips always freshly filled in the boxes or buckets while you wait. I was wondering how my memory served me, so I googled and found the buckets used to hold 128 ounces. I knew it was a lot--more than we could finish on the ride home, fortunately, but never lasted the months before we got back again. Sadly, they closed in 2007 after 102 years in Salem but will always be in our memories.

"These stones are to be a memorial...so that when your children ask, 'What do these stones mean?' you can tell them..."

Joshua 4:6-7

50 Days of Remembers 50 Years Day #21

Teamwork

I've mentioned before that there were times when I had to help George with his cleaning accounts and the trash route and the cleanout and sprucing up of the rental units. He helped me a few times with things at the post office--only so much he could legally do there.

At home we pretty much have our own "chores". He would say he gets the outside and I get the inside, but it's not actually true because he is a huge help with the laundry--lugging it up and downstairs to the machines. I happily fold. Over the years I have learned we have different views on how certain things are folded and try to do his stuff his way and my stuff my way. The hardest for me is that being left-handed, how we hang clothes on the coat hangers in different directions. It feels so backward to me when I put his shirts on a hanger, but I do it the way he likes.

He is "allergic" to anything having to do with the kitchen--cooking, cleaning, etc. He claims he had his share of cooking when I used to get home from work at 6 pm. He seems to remember cooking the meals. I remember him heating up what I prepared when I was home on my two-hour lunch break--how I hated a two-hour break and how hard it was to go back to work after that. 

He will grab a vacuum when he sees the need. We have two bathrooms, and he cleans his and I clean mine. He mows and rakes and all those outside things. He always tries to make repairs on his own before calling a professional. He feels so good when he is successful and grumbles when we have to pay someone else to do it.

 Over fifty years, we have put together so many pieces of furniture that needed to be assembled. So many! There are times when we had to undo some steps and backtrack. I usually read the directions and help assemble the parts. I point out the pictures of what should happen. We usually do pretty well together but at times we disagree and have to take a breath to see what is correct.

I think almost worse than assembling furniture, for me, is moving furniture. I foolishly told myself a couple of years ago that my moving furniture days were done. He would have to find someone else to help him. But alas, I guess since he's almost six years older than me, he figures if he can do it, then I can. I hate carrying and moving furniture. It's not just the lifting and carrying, but it's another test of communication. He has it in his mind which way we should be moving and I have to remind him, I don't know what he's thinking. 

It's pretty clear to last fifty years, there has had to be a lot of teamwork. Teamwork can be doing things separately or together. I hear some women won't pump their own gas. I'm no woman's libber, but I pump my own gas. Sure, I'd love to be waited on and have him do all, but I don't expect it. Though, I do always ask him for spider relocation. Likewise, he is a pretty strong guy when he gets sick and doesn't expect me to wait on him, yes, I will get him some soup or a drink, but he doesn't ask for much when he is sick. 

I plan the vacation itinerary, after the main destination is chosen and he usually drives. We discuss charitable giving. Life has us continually making decisions together. Some choices or chores are not easy. 

For those of you who think after fifty years of teamwork, decision making and just living together for that long, that things must be easy, a well-oiled machine. Of course, we know each others quirks or how the other thinks, and know each other very well, but marriage is always give and take and working your way through the storms--if you aren't rowing toward the same direction, you won't get far. Be faithful, find the like-minded parts never sweat all the small stuff and plug on working together being the best team you can be. 

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If either of them falls down, one can help the other up."

Ecclesiastes 4:9,10

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #20

Running

Running was a big part of our lives in the 90's. George took it up and it was an addiction. He went out running every morning before most of us were up. He couldn't miss a day. I remember Christmas morning when the kids woke up and he was out running, I had to hold them off from opening their presents until he got back and took a quick shower. 

George also like competing in races. He entered short ones 5K-10K to the mother of all races, a marathon in Rhode Island. He took a while to recover from the marathon. He placed a number of times in his age category. 

Now, as I previously posted about "being there", I was there for all his races. Now was I happily there? Often not really to be truthful. I think there is nothing more boring than watching a road race. You cheer them on at the beginning and then you just hang around for half an hour or more to see them come over the finish line. There weren't seats for the spectators to sit on. I would have thought that I could have brought a book to read, but I really don't remember what I did those times. 

The most "annoying" one for the family, well, other than holding back the kids at Christmas, was the Manchester Thanksgiving Day Road Race. It's pretty hard to cook a turkey when you are attending a race. My family was always used to an early dinner--1 pm was late for them. That year my Mom had to cook and it was a little annoying to not know what time we would arrive. As someone who often cooks for others, I so get that. 

Now I don't like to sound like a bitter old wife. I am truly glad he had this activity that he enjoyed and I know he missed it for many years when he had to stop. I now have arthritis and I didn't run, but I really wonder if running was partly responsible for his knee problems. They say "motion is lotion" but I think too much of anything, even exercise, is not good. Of course, this woman who doesn't like exercising is going to say that!

Our kids each did one race with him. Both, in separate years, participated in the Norfolk 5 Mile Road Race (in CT). Tiffany was around 10, I will have to verify her age. Tiffany came in last, but it came with a "reward". Seth Moseley was a famous journalist that lived in Norfolk at the time. He had covered the Lindbergh baby kidnapping and the Hindenburg disaster. He would traditionally interview the last-place finisher for the Norfolk Road Race. I do have Tiffany's newspaper interview that I will at some point attach to here, but for now I have to get these daily memories out. Tiffany did try running later in life and did run another race, I believe.

Ben was around 6 when he ran the Norfolk Road Race with his Dad. I don't remember how he placed. I know it was at the end of the pack, but he didn't get an interview. Ben did not take up running or race again.

I was always the cheerleader--smiling and cheering at the beginning and end--and grumpy in the middle. Not really. I'm sure I was reading or talking to someone. I am glad he did something he loved.

"I have fought the food fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." 

2 Timothy 4:7