It has been 48 years

Since that Sunday in September when George and I were married. We were in Minnesota, in a house still new to us. Like today here, it was hot, humid, and full of sunshine.  I can remember our frantic efforts to make sure the house was clean as the reception would be back there after the wedding. Organized? Not really, furniture? same.

We were married in the small sanctuary that Sunday afternoon. Unlike some Christian weddings, a Jewish one can be short as ours was. .  Rabbi – check., papers signed, check, huppah, check, words said, check, glass object smashed, check. Back out together which was how we came in.  Starting on time, it meant that more than a few people who were perpetually late met us walking out as they arrived.

In the intervening years,  I’ve had up to 18 addresses, George a few less from those times when jobs pulled us to different locations. The 10 years we have been here is the longest we have  lived in one location: otherwise, he can count 2nd-12th grade in the same house while five had been my previous count. We have seen our four children go from infants to independent adults with their own lives and interests. I’ve retired. George hasn’t, and probably never will.

Some people have huge celebrations on their anniversaries; we haven’t done much over the years – on those years where we were even in the same house, much less same country. Then there was 2001.  Since then other events have just seemed more important.

———–>-8 ———-

Earlier this week, my friend Mitchell whom I have known since 1968 sent me a memorial notice for Rabbi Lerner who had married us all those years ago. He was 81 when he died so not all that older than us. I hadn’t kept track of him or many from St Paul when we moved in 1981.