I Had A Dream

I had another BLOG prepared for this week when I had a dream.  Last night, I dreamt of my daughters’ dad – the love of my life.  How many off us remember the very first time and place when and where we met that love?  Thanks to Daughter #1, I have a photograph of the place where I met him. 

I know that I’ve told you before that I worked my way through college (Western State in Gunnison, Colorado) by being a library worker.  Actually, I’d been working in libraries (high school and city public) for years.  So, it was not unusual for me to be working on a weekend at the college library.  It was, after all, one of my minors – elementary education major with minors in art and library science.  I hope I’m not boring you with these repeated details, but they seem to need to be repeated here and now.

On that weekend day, a young college student presented at the library desk asking for help.  I was the only staff member on duty that day; so, of course, it was my responsibility to help.  Helping patrons at any library in which I worked was always a pleasure for me.  This person was no different.  Clearly, his high school (in Littleton, Colorado) had not prepared students to use the library in an efficient manner.  He really did not know how to use the card catalog (yes, we had a CARD CATALOGUE, at that time**).  In fact, one of my responsibilities at the college library, as it had been at the public library, was to type the cards for the catalog when new books were acquired.

After helping him with his project, he is, purported, to have said to his buddies at the student union, that he’d met the woman he was going to marry.  Can love at first sight happen?  Well, apparently, it did for Larry.  Not so much for me.  It took me a while.  And, I know I’ve told you this story before, as well.  But, bear with me.  I like remembering this.

You know, too, that Larry never really “asked” me to do anything.  NEVER!  It was at evening meal in the cafeteria that he approached the table where my roomie and I were sitting.  As I remember the situation, he said to me, “You are in the performance on Friday night, right?  I’ll pick you up after, and we’ll go to the student union.”  He didn’t ask me to go.  He just told me.

As it happened, I knew – I just knew – that John was going to ask me out after the performance (I was required by my choir class to be in the operetta, “Of, Thee I Sing.”)  I just knew he would.  So, I thought, I’ll just go with him and not Larry.  Did I think, that that would show him?  I don’t know.

Friday came and surely enough, John asked me out.  But, I couldn’t go.  I really don’t understand why; but, I couldn’t.  I went to the student union with Larry.

We dated through the winter and spring quarters.  At one point, while taking an ice skating class, I fell and hurt my elbow.  The only person I knew who had a car was Larry, so he took me to the doc.  During those months, we even talked about marriage.  I could hardly believe that someone would want to marry me.  Apparently, he thought we should marry.  Of course, at that time in history, men who were not twenty-one years of age were required to have parental permission to marry.  Although I had not met his family, I knew that his mom was not about to let her son marry a Baptist – they were Lutheran.  So, that just didn’t seem to be in our future.

Summer came.  I stayed for the summer class schedule (I, eventually, earned my degree in three calendar years).  Then, I stayed on to be a counselor at high school band camp.  I was checking the girls into the dorm when this tall guy stood in front of me.  Larry – asking if I had time to go with him; I was given permission from my supervisor, and we went for a drive.

A drive in which Larry said, “Well, are you going to marry me or not?”  Not, “Will you marry me?”  (Nope.  I have realized that I was never ASKED to marry anyone.)  I remember reminding him that his mother would never sign any papers to authorize such a measure.  To which he replied, “Yes, she will.  I’ll get it done.”  And, get it done, he did.  We were married in my parents’ front room the following October on my parents’ wedding anniversary – October 3, 1957.  No long engagements for us.

Larry asked about an engagement ring.  I’m not enamored of diamonds; I really did not want an engagement ring.  Instead, he bought me an “engagement ‘fur’ coat.”  At that time in history, animal activists were making some headway in making real fur coats unacceptable.  And, so, look-alike coats, made of non-animal-fur materials were the rage.  My beautiful coat looked very much like a animal-fur-coat.  It was warm and comfortable and still hangs in my closet.  I photographed my children on that coat.  It is a great background for all of those kinds of photographs.  Today, I only take it out of the closet to show new friends.  Or, to feel it’s warmth and comfort.  And, bring back memories of 1957.

Our wedding rings are gold with a beautiful design.  Sometimes, I wear his and mine, along with the one he inherited from his dad – gold gold and white gold.  I wear them all at the same time.  But, since my fingers have no knuckles, I have not consistently worn mine (or any rings) for years.  I worked on bookmobiles and, when the books were cold, I would lose my ring somewhere in the books while shelving them.  Or, sometimes, I would be saying something (and I always talk with my hands), and my ring would fly across the bookmobile to the floor.

Larry was a man who could accomplish anything he wanted to do.  Sometimes, it meant taking a book in one hand and the project in the other.  But, he got it done.  As Daughters #1 and #3 said in the BLOG they wrote for this column some time ago, “Our Dad Was A Renaissance Man.”

We were preparing to celebrate our sixtieth wedding anniversary when Larry died on July 21, 2017.  Seven years ago.  He is missed by all who knew him.

Be Safe and Be Well
The Cranky Crone
Thoughtful comments are appreciated.

**And, by the way – I’ve just learned that the library in Cleveland, Ohio, still has and uses a card catalog – lots of drawers – lots of cards.