My Life with Jim

In August of 1963, fleeing from an engagement which I had  broken, I moved to Norfolk, VA to take a new job. I had just graduated from the Charleston (WV) School of Cytotechnology, and I was eager to get into my new profession. 

Having lived at home all through college, I was somewhat anxious to break free of my mother's long reach, and simultaneously scared to set out on my own.

I knew no one in my new city, except for a woman I had known in high school and college. She was married to a guy in the Navy, who had also gone to Morris Harvey College. I was making excuses for not calling her: she was married and the last thing she needed was a single girl to mix with, they had two kids, she was a teacher and I thought she would have no time to spend with me. How wrong I was!  After 3 months of working and going home to a rented room, Pat called me and chastised me for not calling her as soon as I moved in. "I have a guy for you," she said. Little did I know what an inveterate match-maker she was! 

We made plans to go to a basketball game on the Navy base, as her husband and this guy played on the same team - Sublant.

She picked me up and we arrived at the base. As she escorted me into the gym, the guys were warming up before the game, and Pat said..."He is the best looking guy on the floor....you tell me who you think it is."  I peered at all the guys, and said "It has to be #40." and she answered...."Yes, and if I can't have him - I want you to!" 

 

That was the start of it all.  Six months later, we married at the Catholic Chapel on the Norfolk Naval Base. There were only nine people present, including the Priest.  We had opted to marry at a time that was completely inconvenient for both our families to attend - mainly because Jim did not want his parents to know that I was not Catholic, and a marriage ceremony without a Mass is a dead giveaway.  

In retrospect, we should never have done that. I had no idea how badly that would affect my parents, especially my mother, not to see me, her only child, married.  Oddly enough, his parents found out years later, when someone decided to spill the beans. By that time, we had 3 children, and they didn't care that I wasn't Catholic, at least, not as much as the person who told them had hoped they would be.  

I think God meant for me to be exposed to Catholicism. The engagement I broke just before I met Jim was also to a Catholic. My mom was leery of that and the first guy, but she loved Jim, and so she came to terms with it. 

We have, as I write this, been married 58 and almost a half years. I have been looking forward to reaching 60+ years with him, but it may not happen .  I still hold out hope; I know miracles happen, and perhaps God will see fit to give us at least a few more years together. 

It has not always been a bed of roses, of course, but I would definitely do it all again. I have written and spoken about my wonderful children and grandchildren until you are all undoubtedly blue in the face. But I will continue to sing their praises. They have all stepped up magnificently during this hospital stay (35 days and counting) and every one of them has been here to visit and sit with him, some even overnight. They enjoy him, he enjoys them, and it gives me some time off, for which I will forever be grateful. 

NOTE:  I know some of this is a repeat, but I feel the need to write, so I beg your indulgence. This is only Part One.