An Anniversary

On September 29, 1956, my parents were married at the United Methodist Church in Dodge City, Kansas. That’s fifty years ago! Kind of cool to think that I am part of something that started so long ago!

Mom knew she would not be around for a fiftieth wedding anniversary, but because I want to honor the occasion anyway, I thought I’d tell you the story of their thirtieth anniversary.

I was sixteen in 1986. My sister was living far away in Illinois. My oldest brother was the proud new Pappa of my very first niece, Ashley. We kids decided it would be a good year to throw a party for my parents on their anniversary. And not just any party, it was going to be a surprise.

Of course, the planning fell primarily to yours truly. It was something I felt I could handle. My sister mailed me money, brother #1 made the office at the airport (where he worked) available to me and brother #2 was good for stuffing envelopes and helping me be sneaky when I needed an excuse to disappear for planning.

In the months prior to the event, my mother was thrilled at my interest in all things sentimental. She pulled out her wedding book and we poured over details – what the cake looked like, who the attendants were, and what the day, in general, had been like.

There were a few hiccups, however. Where, for instance, was my mother’s address book? I couldn’t admit to taking it for addresses, and had to secretly return it to its place when she wasn’t looking. I felt bad about the hours she looked for it, and even worse for my contribution to her worries that she might be losing her mind! I had only taken it for a day. Who knew she was so attached to the thing that she’d miss it in that short amount of time?

More fun came a few days after I had swiped pictures from her wedding album to give to the woman who would be recreating their wedding cake! I had placed that album back on its shelf, thinking Mom wouldn’t likely be looking at it again so soon after she and I had perused it together. But my aunt was over one afternoon and it just so happened they got to talking about the wedding. I don’t remember what they were looking for, but the answer, they decided, was in that wedding album. When I realized the missing pictures would be discovered, I jumped up to get the album myself. Somewhere between the living room and the kitchen, I had to hide the darned thing and declare it missing. I knew a missing wedding album would be a hardship on my mother, but figured that missing pictures from the album would be even harder to explain.

So I stashed the album under the couch, and in a frenzy of can’t-get-caught-now thoughts, came up with a cover story, as well as a re-direct that saved me. On that day I recruited my aunt (who knew about the surprise party) in a let’s-not-even-bring-up the wedding album campaign.

I honestly thought I was being pretty smooth in all my secrecy efforts. I was spending an “unusual” amount of time with my #2 brother. We’d been close, but it was probably starting to look a little fishy.

There were other clues here and there. It was the Friday before, for instance, that a co-worker of my dad’s made a comment at a ballgame. “Hey! Big anniversary coming up!” I think he was on his way to saying something about “seeing them” next weekend when I so rudely interrupted and dragged my folks in the opposite direction. I actually sat with my parents at the ballgame that weekend, determined to keep anyone who might let our secret slip far, far away. The invitations had stated clearly that the party was a secret, but people often operate without their brain-filters installed. At sixteen, I understood this, and I was determined to keep any slips of the tongue far from my parents ears.

What I did not realize, was that Mom, in the couple of months leading up to their anniversary, had been tracking and wondering about my “bizarre” behavior. The big whoop came exactly one week before the big event.

My parents had decided, at the last minute, to take a weekend get-away. My folks loved to travel and it was not unusual for them to take little road trips when I was in high school. Typically, I loved the opportunity to have the house all to myself. I was often a cheerleader for my folks and their solo-vacations. My grandmother lived right next door. An aunt, an uncle, and #2 brother weren’t far down the road. I was good for many days “alone” at home. The longer their trips, the better. At least, that was my usual reaction.

I think we were getting ready for church when my mother casually mentioned that she and Dad were going to take a little trip the following weekend. Maybe they were thinking of getting away for the special anniversary. I really don’t know. But at that moment, all the stress of keeping secrets and organizing this event (which had grown huge in my eyes – people coming from out of town and all sorts of well-wishers who couldn’t be there sending me letters to save for the big day) broke me.

“NO!” I half screamed/half cried. I was completely in tears as the sobs hit me and as quickly as my mind was churning for a story, I couldn’t come up with any reasonable excuse for keeping them home.

“I just don’t want you to go,” I kept repeating. “I’ll miss you. I just don’t want to be alone.”

You can imagine how Mom was processing this information. You could practically see the evidence being tallied in her head.

Elusive,
Secretive,
Emotional,
Lots of time away from home,
Stops talking on the phone when I enter the room,
Won’t leave my side when we are in public.

Mom sat me down at the table, and took my hand. It was time for talk; that much was clear. “Is it a boy? Drugs?” I’m pretty sure those were the first two things that came from her mouth. Those concerns, of course, reduced me to fits of giggles.

A boy – if only! Drugs – beyond unlikely.

I don’t even remember what I rambled on about for hours after that. I’m pretty sure we missed church. I was walking a thin line, willing to go for the stressed-out excuse, but not willing to allude to the truth I had managed to keep so perfectly all that time.

After the whole event was over – and they were really, truly surprised (I’m pretty sure) – Mom and I had a good long laugh over her worries and my bizarre behavior. It was such a relief to spill out all the details. I fished her dust covered wedding album out from under the couch and we replaced the pictures together. I showed her the invitations with the big “SHHHHH!!!” decoration across the front. And she started putting lots of two and twos together.

It was well-worth the effort. Secrets aren’t my favorite way of doing business… but sometimes they are excusable and worth the lengths we go to, to keep them.




Don't they look suprised?