50th Anniversary Party, Final Post

Mama started with a story of when she was 18. "I was helping a blind lady, and when I lifted her to her feet, she said, 'You're a hefty girl, aren't you? Is that why you're not married yet?" Stunned by the lady's rudeness but still composed, my mom replied, "Well, I'm not THAT hefty, and no, I have my reasons. For one, I'm only 18, and for another, I'm in nursing school, and for another I have not found the man I want to marry."

The blind lady asked,"Tell me what sort of man you're hoping to find."
Mama replied, "First, he must love God. He must be educated beyond high school. He must be well-groomed and not a drinker or smoker. And he must be a man already, not a boy. So many of my friends married boys right out of high school. I'm not interested in marrying anyone who is not a man already."

"Hmph. Well, as time goes on, you'll get less particular," declared the old blind curmudgeon.

My mom said she had no plans to become less particular ,but had faith that God would bring her such a man of high caliber. Within a year she met my dad. Three weeks later they were engaged, and seven months later, married.

One day Mama's older brother came for a visit soon after their wedding and declared, "Sis, ya done good. If anyone's gonna be taking care of you, I'm glad it's Lyle."













Daddy started out by telling a lot of marriage jokes. One after another after another till our sides split. Then he folded his paper, put it in his pocket and said, "All joking aside, let me be serious now. When I was a single young man ,I had but one request for God about a wife: 'Give me the best woman in the world.' And He did. Every day for the last fifty years, when I've awakened with Brenda at my side, I thank God for answering my prayer."














For the record, the bottles we
served contained sparkling grape
juice, no alcohol. Daddy didn't
want little plastic champagne
glasses, either, that would "look
like liquor." So we used plastic
tumblers, which made it impossible to "clink" when we wanted to get
the guests' attention for toasts.
I dared Andrea to use her manly ranch whistle, but Rachel stifled my suggestion. Thank God. I'm telling you, we can put on and put off airs just like that!











































































Soon after their speeches ended, we sisters realized we'd forgotten to prepare our toasts. We'd been so busy planning and doing other things, that we didn't sit down and write out our toasts or really mentally formulate them. So, we "winged it," every last one of us!


We went in birth order with our toasts. I don't remember what Rachel said because I was too nervous thinking of what I would say .You know how that goes. Oh, well.
Whatever she said was eloquent, I'm sure.



My toast was a bit sappy. The emotions were hard to contain as I thanked God publicly for answering my prayer that my parents would live to celebrate at least 50 years of marriage together. I also said that I appreciate their perseverance because marriage is not easy. It's work and it can be tempting to give up when it's hard.


Andrea stood and said, "I'm not one for speeches so I'll make this brief. If it wasn't for you, Mom and Dad, I wouldn't be here. So thanks!" and she quickly sat down while everyone just howled.
























Then Jill stood up and said, "Well, that's a hard act to follow, but I did...!"


Oh, the hilarious baby of the family!






























Jill's friend Pam (whom she's known for 23 years) delivered the cake, snow and all:) Yay!


Thanks to Pam, the cake was beautiful and delicious. Vanilla on the top layer for my mom,
chocolate on the bottom for my dad.

We all cut it together (more or less).




















To quote the late Paul Harvey, "And now you
know...the rest of the story. Good day."

50th Anniversary Party, Part 3: Before the Big Moment

A close-up of the floral arrangement we put at my parents' table. I could hardly take my eyes off it. (Note to self: it was made by Dee's Florist in Aberdeen.)











My parents met while at KU, and have been avid Jayhawks fans ever since. Mama set up this vignette next to the Welcome table. Love it! (I think I've mentioned a time or two that my dad tutored the late great basketball star, Wilt Chamberlain, at KU. (Wilt wasn't as good at algebra as he was at hoops.)
I always loved when my daddy tutored me in algebra, too. No one was too great or too small for his attention and brains, least of all his non-mathematically inclined second daughter.


Waiting for guests to arrive, my youngest was a bit on the bored side.
My oldest is standing there looking
suave and his fiancee' debonair.
Andrea is busy hauling water. Paul, AKA my Silver-haired Sweetie, well...I never get tired of looking at him from
any angle. Even (or especially?) at 50 he makes a suit look mighty fine.


There he is, beaming with his one and only daughter. They made a sweet greeting team. I made the floral arrangements in those vases. Love me some lilies. The basket contained little mints wrapped in gold "50" wrappers from Party City. The scrapbook paper in the front was for autographs as people entered. The gift bag held cards for the happy couple. My mom provided the gorgeous lace tablecloth,
a sentimental objet d'art if ever there was one.

Here's a close-up of one of our centerpieces.

In case you missed the how-to, it's a scooped-out pumpkin with a potted mum set down in it, some baby's breath, and silk florals poked in for added color. These were door prizes and thank-you gifts to people who helped us. Cost: approx $15 each.

We used two sheets of Faith paper from Hobby Lobby on each table, as well as silk leaves and two tealights for ambience.

50th Wedding Anniversary Party, Part 2: Blowing a Fuse

Meanwhile Jill finished traying some snacks with a friend I hadn't seen since a teenager. Earlier that morning Gail came to my parents' church--the first time she'd been to church since her husband died in January. She had cried through most of the service, remembering the man who lost his life to Lou Gehrig's disease. Being around us, she said, was very comforting. She absolutely loves my parents who gave her rides to church and a cleaning job all through her teen years.




Look out that window. See the snow? You'd think it would deter old people from going out, but it didn't.

And look at that those young people trying to help their stressed-out mother.(I hesitate to put this butt shot on the internet, but it reminds me of how my children helped out and encouraged me in a pinch.)

What was the pinch? Coffee urns not working! Twice we blew a fuse from an unforeseen draw on the electricity: the photographer had two very bright floor lights and a laptop plugged in. We had two coffee urns, a hot water urn, and a crock pot of apple cider plugged in. ( I was about to "blow a fuse" of my own because cold people would be seeking hot coffee very soon,)

Once again, my quick-thinking and capable husband came to the rescue, flipped some switches, and we were back in business, except with the coffee urns spread on east and west sides of the room to ease up the circuits. Telling guests that "regular coffee is over there" felt like telling them to swim the English Channel, and I let that bother me. My daughter told me not to stress about it, but I did. "Only in America" is what I had to whisper to myself. It's what I say when I realize what a spoiled brat I am to be in culture that "hmphs!" about the mildest inconveniences.

Next time I think I'll bow out of not only anything technical, but anything electrical as well. It triggered a hot flash. Only in America.

50th Anniversary Party, Part 1: Getting Prepared

My three sisters and I started planning in earnest for this party back in July, with input from my parents. They told us the essential thing that would make the event special: having all four daughters home to celebrate with them. They also wanted friends, neighbors, and congregants, but mainly they wanted their girls in Maryland.

So the two from out of state booked their flights for a long weekend. The event was to take place on Saturday, October 29, 2011, from 3-5 pm, on what we predicted would be a gorgeous fall day.

Hands-on preparation started Thursday night when the sisters gathered at my house to make
the centerpieces and cut up fruit and veggies.

On Friday, we went to the clubhouse with my dining room chairs, a rented bistro table and other rented items, all our pumpkin vases and other floral arrangements. (The one above was done professionally. Isn't it stunning?) My future daughter-in-law Deirdra, and my sister Andrea
dressed the tables in fall colored tablecloths. Jill set up the AV equipment while Dee set tables; Rachel organized the food and greeting table while I worked on getting the picture presentation boards set up and coffee urns and paperware in place. We were all too busy running around to get any more than this single pre-party photo. Oh well.


In the midst of setting up, we got a call from the cake decorator, a long time friend of Jill's who lives in Bowie, about an hour and a half from the clubhouse. She said that the forecast of 2-6 inches of snow--yes, SNOW!--might prevent her from delivering the cake. I prayed silently, "Lord, please hold off the snow! We don't have another dime for a storebought cake and it won't be nearly as special as Pam's."

The next day we attended shabbat where my dad preached on getting prepared for the return of Yeshua (Jesus). It was one of those moments I stopped and thought, "I'm so busy being about the here and now, what am I doing to plan for eternity?" Seemed in that instant I once again thought about how much of life is planning. In the image of God we're made.

We scurried out after oneg shabbat (the luncheon that typically follows the service) and made a beeline for the clubhouse to meet the photographer and set up all the food and drinks. On the drive over, snow began to fall. Or should I say, "fall began to snow"?