Just For Miss Four

A conversation a few weeks ago with The Most Adorable Granddaughter#6, aged four, went something like this:

Miss Four: Nana, when are you going to get married?

(Has she heard her sisters ask Uncle#4 this? But what, then, does she think of me living in the same house as Grandpa? Does she think I'm living in sin?)

Nana (aka Jules): I'm already married.

Miss Four: When are you going to have babies then?

Nana: I had five babies.

Miss Four (In an accusatory tone): Well, where are they?

(Had we been inside I suspect she may have gone looking under beds for said babies!)

I explained that her daddy was one of my babies, to which she replied: I didn't know that.

I'm not sure who to blame for her lack of education! She has two older sisters and enough cousins and uncles to set her straight. As her father said when he heard, "I honestly have no idea where that child gets all these ideas."

So, this is for the record, Miss Four: Nana and Grandpa were married over thirty-five years ago. I wrote about our most recent anniversary here. But let me go back a little further:

Grandpa and I met at a Youth Group Camp - that he attended and I didn't. I was in my last year of secondary school and had assumed I would have too much work to be able to attend. But then several teachers were away that week and I managed to catch up on all my homework. The Youth had invited the Church family to the camp for the Saturday afternoon and when I learnt my parents were going, I decided to go with them. The rest, as they say, is history. (Except, perhaps that your Grandpa's sister was already a good friend of mine and was active in encouraging our budding romance.)

We planned our engagement for when Grandpa's parents were visiting him and his sister. I had never met his parents, and they graciously accepted me into the family - even if I was an Australian. (You know first hand how much Grandma loves all her family.) The day we went to tell my parents that we were engaged, my mother collapsed and was sick for months. It was never discovered what ailed her.

The evening we were to meet with the minister to apply for our marriage license, we were involved in a small car accident. We were not hurt but we stopped to offer assistance to the driver of the other car who was hurt. We never made the appointment that day with the minister (obviously we must have rescheduled because we were able to be legally married, although I don't remember such a meeting).

The week before our wedding I broke my engagement ring and Grandpa had a gas oven blow up in his face, singeing his hair. We're thankful it wasn't worse (although since then have wondered if there was damage to his eyes since they hurt at the time and he has had issues with them that are not common in someone his age). I met most of your Grandpa's brothers and sisters only the week before the wedding.

On the day of the wedding, our photographer went to the wrong church. This was back in the days when people didn't have cellphones or computers. I'm assuming that he had to find a pay phone and ring his boss who then had to go into the office and find out where the ceremony was being held. The photographer arrived as the ceremony was nearly over. His photo of us from the back is one of my treasured ones since it is one of the few "real" official photos from inside the church. (He later took photos of me walking down the aisle on my father's arm - complete with confetti in my hair and veil pushed back off my face.)

We arrived at our honeymoon destination only to discover that when we had exchanged cars - since this was at a time when relatives liked to "decorate" cars and we had hidden ours to ensure its safety - we had somehow left Grandpa's suitcase behind. Fortunately, being summer, we didn't need to buy a lot of items to replace those that were missing.

Your Uncle#1 was born one year, one week and one day after we were married - on a day as hot as our wedding day. Your own daddy was born nineteen months later and your other three uncles followed at regular intervals.

And, now, Miss Four, here we are: thirty-five years later, with our five babies all grown and making lives of their own, with three beautiful hand-chosen daughters (and hoping that number will increase), seven adorable and much-loved granddaughters, and another precious grandchild on the way.

And regardless of what Grandpa may tell you: he is legally married. I know he claims it's not his signature on the marriage license and that he can't be heard to say "I do" in the wedding vows (and since no one has cassette tape players anymore I suspect that so-called piece of "evidence" would be thrown out of court anyway), but, believe me, we are married.

You don't have to worry on that score anymore.