On March 28th, 1948, my mom and dad were married at the Congregational Church in Troy, NH. Sixty years ago, this very day. They stayed at the Fitzwilliam Inn, in (duh) Fitzwilliam, New Hampshire. Ten months later I was born. They must have liked the area because in 1958 we moved to Fitzwilliam. BTW, on the card from the Inn that Mum had saved in a scrapbook, the rates in 1948 ranged from $4.50 for a single without running water to $15.00 for a double with a bath. (No comment.)
Somewhere, I have a picture of my mom and dad standing in front of the church on their wedding day. I'll find it someday and post it. Bettsy was 25 and Blair was 30. They each had a 6 year old daughter (my sisters Donna and Beverly). Dad and Mum had known each other 6 weeks. The night they met, dad told his mother he'd just met the woman he was going to marry. Well, the second woman.
I remember seeing a letter that Dad wrote to my mom. It was so sweet. That letter showed me that, in spite of how he often treated my mom badly, he had started out completely devoted. They had a lot of fun. They had 4 kids together. And they had a rocky marriage. Dad could be verbally abusive, Mom could be amazingly passive aggressive. When I wonder how they got together, I think of that sweet letter.
On my trip back east to see her, Miranda said, again, that she couldn't understand why her dad and I ever got married. I was surprised. Gear and I had a lot in common and a good marriage for years. How could she not remember? In fact, at the age of ten, Miranda was completely surprised when we separated, because we never argued in front of her and her brother. Now, 16 years after the separation, she looks as us and can't figure out how we could ever have been together. That seemed so odd. I rattled off a list of the things we had in common, the many things we both loved to do, the things we saw eye to eye on. I'm not sure I got through to her. It's hard for kids to get their parents. And as hard as it is for our kids to understand us, it was that hard for me and my sibs to understand our parents' relationship.
The one thing I am sure about is that Blair and Bettsy would have loved seeing their grandkids. They would have adored this crew. They did know Robin and Melanie and Pete and Tim and Katie. But Dad died in 1979 and didn't know any of the grandchildren that would come of his marriage to Mum. And Mum died in 1982 when Miranda was 4 months old. So my parents have missed out on knowing Miranda, Rhea, Kyle, Devon, Elizabeth, Siena, and William. And they missed out on their great-grandchildren Alicia, Kiersten, and Nickolas--as well as Pete, Tim, and Katie's children. And that is a shame, cause this generation of kids is wonderful. My dad loved smart kids and he would have been blown away by this crew. And they both would have been impressed by each and every one of their grandchildren: how beautiful, how nice, how sweet, how loving, how funny, and how delightful they are.
And I think they would have loved Kyle. Kyle who had the biggest heart of all. Kyle, who appreciated family more than any kid I've ever known. Kyle who would grow as tall as a tree. Kyle with the magnificent hands. Kyle with the exquisite face that seemed to have McLeod and Whitham and Campbell and Price in equal amounts. Kyle who read and kept up on sports and sought out the news and understood world events. Kyle who was such a good friend and such a dear son.
And maybe the joke is on me. Maybe Blair and Betts and Kyle and all the generations who have gone before are hanging out together in the great unknown. Getting to know each other, the older folks really enjoying Kyle and feeling so bad for us because we have lost him, and knowing that our tragic loss is their gain. And in the clear light of day, I don't believe that one whit. But it's not the clear light of day. It's late night now. And I'll entertain anything.
Happy anniversary, Mum and Dad. You two have formed a multitude. And we are grateful and we honor you and we miss you so very very much.
With all my love,
Your daughter,
Cindy
8 comments:
i want to learn so much more about my grandparents and the family in general. i can't wait until the reunion this summer. somehow i'll make my way home for it. i'm promising myself.
cyn, this is a beautiful post. thank you for it.
-devon
Remember the recent dream I had of Kyle at Iron Horse Farm and Nana and Grampa driving up from the tennis court across the field to the house in a porche and stopping for Nana to jump out and hug me and say how "Proud, so very proud we are of all of you!" and then Grampa saying gruffly, "Oh, Robin knows that, come on, Betts, or we'll be late!". I'll never forget that beautiful dream or Kyle sitting in the kitchen waiting for them with all his traveling gear on the floor by his feet.... : )
It's clear light of day here - and I do believe, oh, yes I do!
These Whitham men were pretty amazing in their whirlwind romances and quickfire weddings.
My father proposed to both of his wives the day they were first together... Ann (Wendy's mom) and he were more than likely at your parents' wedding in Fitzwilliam, as they were living the next town over and Ann's Aunt Elsie had a summer place on Laurel Lake in Fitzwilliam. Nine months and a day after your parents were married, Ann died of bacterial endocarditis. My father was devasted, but just 4 months later became reacquainted with my mother at the Congregational Church in Milton in April, 1949. He told Esther that he was going to marry her a year to the day later, and he did.
If you want to find out any details about your parents' wedding or romance, I'm sure my dad has some intact memories. His address is 5 Michael Rd., Pocasset, MA 02559. Phone is 508-563-3943.
I loved seeing the picture of your parents. It brought them right back to the way I remember them.
Take care, Cyn. -w
Cyn,
I loved this post and due to the beautiful calendar you created for us I knew today was their wedding anniversary. That picture is exactly as I recall them. I think of Grandpa Blair in particular so fondly. He adored me. ;) A boastful thing to say but I was his youngest grandchild and he was wonderful to me. I recall the parties at Iron Horse, his bright yellow pants with frogs on them and Y.P.O.M. under the lily pad (it stood for your pad or mine but he once whispered to me that it stood for, "you pee on me!" as an 8 yr. old I thought it was brilliant! I remember the Florida vacations, how he'd walk the beach, his no white diet (he was in great physical shape (to the naked eye) it seemed at the time of his death). I loved his back den where he'd watch football games, I can hear the tinkling of ice in his cocktail, how he'd call the dogs, rides in our very own "Herbie Loves Bug" car he stored in the barn. I miss him. I have talked about him more & more since I've had my own kids. I love how you said he'd love our children. I know he wouldn't take any crap from them either...although he was much more lenient on us grandkids. Happy Anniversary to them indeed. And as for Kyle, bless him-bless you and much love. k
Cyn:
This is a really beautiful post . . . and the similarities between how your parents met and got married and my Blair and me are pretty amazing. When met and decided to be married within a very short time period. My Blair even went and told your grandma that he had met the woman he was going to marry, when he visited her just before she passed away! And its true. Who does understand love between a man and a woman. I think there is something magical about it . . . we are so different and still so alike in our humaness.
I know you are right about these kids too. They are ALL so amazing, deeply intelligent, kind hearted, generous, loving young creatures. I know that my mom and grandpa & grandma would feel the same awe if they had had the chance to get to know all of them. I love the idea that they may all be in some other time/space and having a glass of wine or a cocktail (or perhaps Ky introducing them to something else!) and looking down on us with great big smiles on their faces at the wonderful big family we have made.
I heard on NPR yesterday a Scottish musician talking about a song that he wrote for his brother, who passed away last year. It was a beautiful mournful ballad. He said the only time a Scot is really happy is when he is sad . . . and your post gave me that happy/sad feeling that comes with a deep truth.
I love you sis,
Dianne
For all their flaws and foibles, your parents must have done a lot of things right to raise such wonderful offspring. I wish they had been here longer. I only got to meet your mom once when Miranda was born and never met your dad. But I've heard the love in your voice as you have described and remembered them over the years. Thank you for this beautiful tribute. Love, Della
thank you for being here and reading. thank you for your support and love. i am so fortunate to have nieces and sisters and cousins and dear friends. as alone as i feel sometimes, i am never alone.
You got that right, sweetie, you are never alone.... : )
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