The doorbell rang early the morning of January 7, 1956. Mother came running to my room and woke me up saying, “You need to go to the front door.”
Half asleep, I wrapped a robe around me and stumbled to the door. A woman smiled and said “I’ve been told to tell you Today’s our day.” And then she handed me an armful of yellow roses and a handwritten note.
I was wide awake now. I put the roses down and opened the note,
Today’s our day…
Yellow roses are for remembrance and fidelity…
We have to make each day a day to remember…
Sixty-two years ago today I married my love, the young man I met seven years before in ninth grade. This day is engraved on my heart and mind. The armful of yellow roses was the beginning and a single yellow rose showed up many times during our twenty-one years together, a date night dinner, the births of our daughters, a new home, and many times for no reason at all.
One of the last yellow roses showed up in Bill’s hand in Paris, France. He had gone ahead of me on business and I stayed home to go to our daughters’ dance recital. I flew to Paris the day after the recital. The plane landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport and when I looked out the window Bill was standing there with a yellow rose in his hand. “Remember…” he said as he handed the rose to me.
Memories—we all have them, some good and some not, but all are precious. They fill our life and make us who we are. Throughout the years Bill would occasionally ask “What do we remember about today?” My love died young at forty-two years. His last word to me was Remember…
So each January 7, I look through our wedding pictures and I remember…
I remember eating the top layer of our wedding cake in bed the morning after our wedding!
I remember our first little home in Independence, Missouri.
I remember the stories he shared with me about the military.
I remember the births of our daughters.
I remember him hanging diapers out to dry.
I remember the stories he made up for our daughters.
I remember him playing the guitar and singing Moon River and Scarlet Ribbons.
I remember costume parties (and that’s another story for another time!)
I remember his humor and dry wit.
I remember his love of food and coconut pies.
I remember our date nights and fancy dress -up parties.
I remember the picnics in the den and cooking hot dogs in the fireplace.
I remember playing poker with our daughters on the beach and using sea shells for poker chips.
I remember making a gallon of ice cream and taking it to the drive in theater with our daughters.
I am thankful for love and laughter and our time together.
The tears fade, days and years pass, but the joy of memories holds fast.
And I remember the roses …
Picture: In the picture Bill and I have left the church and are on our way to our wedding reception and the wind was blowing hard!