May 31, 1974--A Momentous Occasion

It was a beautiful summer day, although the season doesn't really begin until June 21.

The Wards have always been farmers. When Viking ancestors invaded Normandy in 1066, my family members were Norman lords. I'm not sure if I should capitalize "lord." The overemphasis just seems a bit pretentious to me.

We still have the ancestral urges: the need to grow things, and though by 1066 the family tree most likely was Christian, there is still an element in us today, that feels the urge to grip a sword and fight when it comes to defending family, or just when someone really pisses us off. It's not like we think engaging in battle will help us reach Valhalla or anything. We just find the aggressive process a needed alternative to just sitting there and smiling passively.

My father always told me this: "Don't take any wooden nickles." He left me to interpret it any way I wanted. In my opinion it was a reminder not to take crap from anyone.

But that farm thing was an issue with a May 31 wedding date. We were still planting grain, but it really didn't make all that much difference in 1974, because the horribly dry summer didn't work well for our dry farm. The crops were poor, and not being in the fields a couple of days would never have made a difference.

However, my Sweetie was something far more important than farming. And she still means more to me than the concept of Valhalla was for my ancestors. She has made all the difference in my life.

My parents were in their 40's. Ann's dad was about my age right noWithin only three or four years of this picture, he passed away. It's even more tragic now, because you realize when you're fifty, that even the late 50's aren't really all that old, although some days I wonder when I feel the ache in my knees, ankles and toes. They all shared that brief moment in time with us, celebrating the beginning of something extraordinary.

And regardless whether we go to a class reunion at the new high school in Malad,

shoot Zurg and his evil robots at Disneyland,

or squeal like little girls on a coaster at Busch Gardens in Virginia, we still have fun together.

Because it's not just about all that heavy breathing on starry nights, we lived an incredible life together--working, studying, sacrificing. It's what defines us.

It's what you do with someone you love. And for the record, the starry nights are still grand, even if I'm an old coot.