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    Until Death Do Us Part

    Tom and Linda Moore celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary on Sunday.

    Ginger and I attended the celebration, and Linda asked Ginger when our 50th would be? I’m glad she didn’t ask me, because I was thinking in 2014. Ginger set me straight with 2015. I know we were married in 1965 because that’s when we bought a new ’65 Corvair. I don’t claim to be a math wizard. I guess when you celebrate your 50th graduating class reunion, your 50th wedding anniversary can’t be far behind.

    When we entered the Firehouse reception hall, there were grays as far as the eyes could see. I guess when you want your friends and family to help you celebrate, all you have to do is mention food. I for one, tried to work the floor, because there were friends I haven’t seen in quite awhile.

    Ginger and I enjoyed the many pictures that were displayed, especially the one from our first trip to Hawaii. The Moore’s, Hart’s, Patty’s and of course the Godfrey’s enjoyed two weeks island hopping. The pictures that were displayed of that trip certainly brought back many memories. What really astounded us was how young we all looked. Ginger suggested we insert a card in our small gift that invited Linda and Tom to a free dinner on us, so we could catch up on both of our families.

    Ginger’s schedule was a little tight on Sunday, so we had to say our congrats and leave. She promised our daughter number one (Kelly) that she would help her reset her displays in the antique shop she’s a vendor. While watching the golf match, I remember Ginger telling me goodbye and that she would probably be late coming home. I gave her my usual nod, and repeated “yes dear.”

    I’m telling you all this because our pastor (Dan Scalf) and his wife (Rebeca) finished a three week series on marriage, entitled Until Death Do Us Part. In a nut shell, the sermon explained to everyone married or going to be married that we’re suppose to profess our Love daily, prove it weekly, pursue in monthly and preserve it yearly.

    I whispered to Ginger, “if this is a test, I just failed.”

    To top that off, he gave us a few moments to arrange in order the Five Languages of Love. I thought he meant to arrange them on yourself, and Ginger thought she was arranging them on your spouse. When we compared our papers, it was like night and day. Both sheets were on me, and none of them matched. If you would like to try these languages of love at home? Here’s the list: Quality Time, Words of Affirmation, Gift Giving, Acts of Service, and Physical Touch. I would really like for you to try this, and then let me know how it turns out?

    For example: Ginger rated my Physical Touch as number five. I guess she’s not counting on all the weeds I helped her pull, and that we bumped heads. She’s convinced that I could be a hermit.

    This week’s bottom line: I know when we got married in 1965, we both vowed to become one. We just don’t know how long it takes to become one in golf or one in oil painting? You do know I’m just kidding?

    “Now it’s true I married my wife for her looks . . .
    but not the ones she’s been givin’ me lately.”
    Jeff Foxworthy

    “Marriage is an alliance entered into by a man who can’t sleep with the window open, and a woman who can’t sleep with the window shut.”
    George Bernard Shew

    (GG’s addition) Thus the couch was invented.

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