My Granddaughter's Wedding

[The first photo is of my mother and dad, Florence Dittmar and Orrin Meyer, in 1939 a year before they were married, my father's last year at the University of Wisconsin. The second is of my husband's precious granddaughter, and mine too for the past 11 years, on her wedding day to Eric.]

This entry is from July 18, 2005, from my old blog that is closing.

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This past weekend my beautiful granddaughter Michelle got married to Eric. She is still in college, and so is her new husband, so they are signing up for some hungry years.
They have always been so in love. They have always been so committed to each other since their senior year in high school. I think they knew most people wondered about a marriage between them at such an early age (both are 21). I think we all wanted to protect them from the realities of adult life until they had finished their educations and had a career foundation. But there were thoughts on my heart that became words, and I sent them to Michelle before the wedding.

I share them here in honor of love, marriage, and sacred unions under God.
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Dear Michelle,
My parents dated eight years, since Mom was a Junior and Dad a senior in high school. Dad went to Manitowoc Teacher's College and taught country school after high school, and then went back to the University of Wisconsin so he could pursue a more versatile career.
Mom waited.
Dad died young, only 59. Mom never dated once after that, and was never interested. She always said Dad was the love of her life, and we kids always felt that. We knew we were a God given product of their love, and important to them, but not the center of their lives.
They were the center of each other's world.
Not us.
There was great comfort in living in that kind of love.
Mom said her heart was content with Dad's memory, and she knew they would be spending eternity together, so she would wait for him again.
This last wait was 29 years.
What I want to tell you now with this background reported, I have said to you before. But I want to say it again. In more recent years as my mother was declining, and she would talk about her death and her desire to get back to Daddy, I asked her if she had regrets in her life. Her answer was:
Only one. Your Daddy and I should have gotten married sooner. I could have worked while he was in college. We could have had 3 extra years. I grieve those years.
You are getting those 3 years my parents didn't. Use them well
Cherish them, honor them, and revere them as the important time they are.

Blessings, Gramma Lou

P.S. If I listen in the quiet house at night before I fall asleep, I imagine I can hear my parents dancing on the ceiling.
And when it rains,

I know I do.