January 15, 1948 in Hot Springs, Arkansas my grandparents were married...it was at her father's home...after the ceremony, they drove to Little Rock, Arkansas for a very quick honeymoon. When they pulled into the city, they were both hungry, so they stopped at a little cafe for a bite to eat.
Gramps had a habit of pulling out his comb anytime he went anywhere...so, in the car, he pulled out his comb, and proceeded to make sure he looked okay...but as he ran the comb through his hair, copious amounts of the rice that the families threw at them fell all over the car.
As they got to the place they were staying that night, my gramps gave my grandma the car keys, his billfold, and told her to go back home. He was about to be very sick and he did not want her seeing him that way...you see, he had contracted malaria during The War, and it was acting up on his wedding day...he had been able to tough it out through the ceremony, but by the early evening, he was getting very, very sick. My grandmother, ever a little defiant, said she knew darn well how to take care of sick people and was not going anywhere. "I am your wife now."
She did not leave his side for almost 60 years...on September 13, 2007, my gramps passed away...I said all I know to say about him in this post last year. One thing that I don't know how to phrase, however, is how their love and marriage has affected me. It was not perfect...they had rocky times and hard roads like all married couples...but my grandfather's last words were asking for her. He was not ready to go until she was holding his hand.
He died not long after she arrived. His laboured breathing and broken body finally found rest...but not until his Ruth was beside him.