Something of an anniversary

 

 

Not a usual one like a wedding or a birthday.  This day, the 28^th of April, 1966, is the day I arrived back to Judy after two years overseas.  That was before the marvels of modern communication.  No phone.  No internet.  Essentially, our only communication was by letter, which often took as much as three weeks to make the journey by U.S. Mail to an Army Post Office address.

 

From the moment of that first teenaged spark, we determined to spend the rest of our lives together.  We also knew that the long separation could have an impact, so as time crawled by and we exchanged letters every day we could, there was a caveat.  As long as everything felt like it did before we were apart for so long, we would get married and never have to be apart again.  Fifty-nine years ago today, I finished the final leg of my journey back to Judy, and that just-in-case caveat was resolved in an instant with hugs and tears.  It was Thursday.  This is the day that we knew we had survived that separation.  The following Saturday we set the date for our wedding.  The very next Saturday we were married.  This is the day we determined we could say goodnight every night and wake up the next morning and still be together.