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May 12 would have been my 49th anniversary. So long! I can't believe it. I must have been eight when I got married (wink).
I hope you like my trip down memory lane.
When I was nineteen I joined the navy because I wanted to travel the world. On my first assignment, in Nea Makri, Greece, I watched a guy ride onto the base on a motorcycle. Being a California gal, I always loved riding on motorcycles.
This is a recent pic of the neglected base, but I was standing on that far left corner when we met. |
The guy got off the bike and took off his helmet. He had dark brown hair and dark eyes, sort of my "perfect" visage for a man.
My sponsor said immediately, "That's George Parkinson, he's trouble. Stay away from him."
Well, sad to admit, this intrigued me more. We eventually started dating, took a fantastic bike trip through southern Greece (I need to scan those old pictures), and a year later got married. But it wasn't an easy process. He was married, but legally separated. Everyone kept warning me, he's married.
His mother found him a divorce lawyer, and though it took a year, he got his divorce. By that time I was pregnant with our first child, so a quick wedding was in order before I left the navy and flew back to California, waiting for George to join me.
We had two sons, and lived in Puerto Rico, California, and Guam, before settling in Washington DC until he retired.
He worked for the Navy as a civil servant and I started writing novels, a passion of mine since I was a child.
We had our ups and downs in our marriage, but held on. Now we have two beautiful granddaughters.
Five years ago we returned to Greece for a reunion. The base was derelict but the people friendly and welcoming.
I want to celebrate a good man and a life well-lived. Not perfect but decent, and an adventure. Loved to the last.
I'm still getting used to not having my closest friend beside me.
Cherish your loved ones. I had fifty years and I hold on to that.
Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with one naughty dachshund.