Mama and Daddy were married in my grandmother's living room. It was a simple ceremony between Christmas and New Year's (December 27, I think) in 1962. Mama was a good bit younger (and shorter) than Daddy, especially since she was only 18. She had just graduated from high school a few months before.
On the way to the his funeral, she told me she didn't think she'd ever marry again. I didn't say much. Just told her she might change her mind. And that it would be okay by me. Daddy always wanted her to be happy, and I don't think that changed when he died.
A little over a year later, she hasn't changed her mind. She watches reruns of old high school football games on a local cable channel just to catch a glimpse of him on the sidelines.
I told her I still loved Rich, my first partner who died 13 years ago. But I've been with Shannon for 9 years. I still love Rich, and Shannon lives with a ghost. I can love them both.
She may meet someone down the way that changes her mind about her driving-to-the-funeral pronouncement. But it's still pretty recent. A little over a year. Too soon to tell.
I've told her that I wouldn't object to her re-marrying, just as long as the man was as good as Daddy.
Not sure she can find one, but I'd settle for a good imitation. Just as long as he made her happy.
Call me a sentimental fool. Just don't call me an old one.
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