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Warm your stomach with some chicken soup (a share.)

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Where it all began.

With his permission, I share with you a recent piece from Stewart Perkins.

When I read his blog I immediately thought of Mary Agnes, my wife of fifty seven years come this November and our beginning. I also thought of her and our fifth great grandchild Alana, soon to be six months old. As a side note, grandchild Rachael is due to bring into this world Great # 6 later this month.

In the beginning, that would be late spring of 1964, our first date took place in New Jersey, just across the Tacony/Palmyra bridge from N/E Philadelphia. That bridge would cross the famous Delaware river George Washington once crossed. After attending a movie with another couple, we stopped at a diner for a bite to eat and headed north on Rt. 130 towards Willingboro where the other couple’s parents resided. As we headed north we came upon a cemetary in Cinniminson New Jersey. The entryway was well lit and beutiful aeration fountain was spraying water in the air. I can still to this day shut my eyes and visualize that entryway.

We would pull in, park, and begin a leisurely walk about the grounds. I can still hear ducks quacking and the spray of the aerated water hitting the pond. At some point we found ourselves behind a hedge and with her permission, yes I asked permission, we kissed. “Botta Bing, Botta Boom,” bells, whistles, fireworks. We were a match! Eighteen months later the four of us would elope and marry in Fall River, Massachusetts. (That’s a story for another day.) A young Marine, a Sailor, and two recent grads from Nursing school would take one Giant Step in our young lives. Just as a side note, we played Pinochle on our wedding night.

Cemeteries have always held a special meaning to us over the years. Several years back on a trip to the Canadian Mari tines we must have stopped in a least a dozen and commemorated each with a kiss, “EH.”

When weather permits and the wife is doing child care for Alana she pushes the stroller into a close-by cemetery and tells Alana, this is where it all began. It was also fitting that the first date was on a weekend’s liberty from Marine Barracks, 8’th & I, Washington, DC. During my three years in D.C. I would quite often find myself at funerals in Arlington National Cemetery, including that of President John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

To so many, a cemetery signifies closure. To me and mine, it was a beginning. To Dan, the Sailor who began that journey with us, “May you rest in peace.”

Much thanks to Stewart Perkins for allowing me to share his Chicken Soup for the soul.

theRooster


7 Comments

  1. Marvelous! You are a wonderful storyteller, and you have many stories to share.

    Next month we’ll have our 58th anniversary.

  2. I read it a second time and realized Dan is gone. I’m so sorry you’ve lost him. What a history you had together!

    • His marriage bore 2 children, a son in OR & a daughter in TN. His X wound up in HI. They didn’t last too long, but thanks to their early attraction I’m still happy in dead spaces. Many monuments to our existence. The very old epitaphs are the best. “Here lies Dan, what a bummer. During his life he was one great drummer!”

  3. PaulaWright says:

    Was wondering when I would here more Fiddler News from the ROOSTER !!?
    Great soup for the Soul !!
    Thank you ,
    Paula

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