Preparing for my fathers funeral, my mother finally revealed the story of how she met my dad and when asked why she hadn’t told us before she said “you never asked.”
Growing up in rural Missouri there wasn’t much teenagers and young adults could do or places to go to meet friends other than church Mom said there was one little place where you could visit with friends and listen to music, but no alcohol.
My mom went with a date that night who introduced her to another couple he knew. Mom said that she knew when she met the other young man that this was the person meant for her. It seems the other young man felt the same way about my mom and the two couple’s switched partners and my parents were always together from that night on. They were married about eight months later on December 24th, 1938.
The longest my parents were ever apart was when my dad took a carpenters job in California for several months and then he returned and moved our whole family to California to live. Mom occasionally took me to Missouri with her to visit family but that was only for a few weeks but most of the time we drove non stop with mom and dad trading off with the driving duties.
They never spoke an angry word to each other, never argued in front of us; they never cussed or called anyone names, setting an example to live by. They were perfect partners with mom taking care of the home and day to day family life and dad working to provide a home. They fished on the banks of lakes and rivers together, camping and cooking over an open fire and traveling in their fifth-wheel trailer. Mom quilted and dad built the quilt frames. Dad would work on a project and need help and call out ma and mom was right there to provide another hand.
It was love at first sight and they loved each other with all their hearts.
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