During a late lunch with two friends this afternoon after my haircut, it suddenly occurred to me that today is the 65th anniversary of my parents getting engaged. Or at least, of their engagement becoming public. And it’s a beautiful story.
Mother and Daddy were the true all-American love story, because they met on a blind date arranged by Mother’s friend Billie T***** G***. Daddy was the homecoming king one year (basketball, not football) and very popular after having spent two years at a military academy before returning to Lake Charles High. Mother was a Yankee from Wisconsin via New Jersey. Daddy was besotted; only a few years ago did he tell us that he used to sing Perry Como’s “Prisoner of Love” to Mother in those years.
Daddy played basketball through college (mostly at McNeese, but also later at LSU) while Mother concentrated on math and music at LSU from the stability of her sorority house. Then Daddy went into the family business and Mother decamped for New York (!) to work in the secretarial pool at one of the big insurance companies. (She used to tell me they had assigned seats in the cafeteria, and she and her girlfriends would pre-deal a hand of bridge so they could bolt through lunch and then play cards for the rest of their lunch hour.) But she finally returned South, she and Daddy took up again, and he finally convinced her to say yes.
Together they decided to keep their engagement to themselves for the time being, and Daddy also convinced Mother that he couldn’t really afford a ring at just that moment. And Mother bought it, hook, line, and sinker.
So . . . comes Christmas Eve, and Mother is invited to Daddy’s parents for the evening. Now in this family Christmas is on Christmas Eve, not Christmas Day; this is when the presents are handed out. Granny and Grampa were living on Kirkman Street then, not far from our church, and - oh mercy - there may have been eight or ten of the eventual 18 grandchildren there. Mother was surprised when Daddy handed her a gift. She may even have asked “What’s this for?” She thought only the children were receiving gifts! What could this mean?
In the 1950s neckties were sold in boxes shaped like the bottom of a necktie, and this was a nicely wrapped tie box. When Mother opened it, she found a ring box. And inside the ring box, I’ll bet you can guess what she found. She was so surprised she screamed! And my then infant cousin Mary Lynn had to be taken from the room ‘cause it started her crying. Turns out her mother, my Aunt Betty, was in on the secret ‘cause Daddy asked her to wrap the tie box!
Everyone was surprised, and I remember being told that Granny’s sister Lal (had she been crippled by polio at this point or not?) said that it was a match made in heaven because they were both so shy they’d never have met anyone else.
May 14, 1955: Day One
Last March, going through the house with Laura, we found the tie box and the ring box, and you can imagine how thrilled I was. Of course, Mother never threw anything away . . . but this is the sort of thing one hopes a couple will keep.
It’s beautiful to remember this on my first Christmas on my own.
May 9, 2015: Celebrating 60 years together.