...I Got You, Babe...

Here's a toast to the future

A sigh for the past

We can love and remember

And hope to the last.

And for all the base lies

That the Almanacs hold

While there's love in the heart,

We can never grow old.

~Unknown

Forty years ago today, the final preparations were being made for the wedding that will take place in four short weeks. With time running out, my parents and my new in-laws were still disagreeing about the reception and where it would take place, the food that would be served, and the guests who were to be invited. Every day I sewed pearls and sequence on the wedding dress and veil my mother made for me. Many things crossed my mind during the time I hand sewed the details on my dress. It would have been so easy to elope like we planned and save everyone, including us a lot of headaches, bickering, and the financial obligations of having a wedding. Getting married and vowing to spend a lifetime with someone, for better or worse, is a tall order for two kids who just finished high school. The decision wore at me until I panicked. Four weeks to the big day, time demanded I confront those fears with the dark haired boy sitting next to me in the dining room of our first home. My mind wasn’t on the task of tediously addressing invitations. With every envelope I sealed, I felt myself becoming more stressed. I wrung my hands under the table trying to hide my nervousness and like someone possessed, the words poured out of my mouth, “I don’t think I can do this.” “Do what?” he asked. “Marry you,” I blurted staring out the window. The announcement was cold and unfeeling and it was too late to take it back.

The silence was overwhelming in that small dining room. I felt as though the ice green walls were going to smother me for breaking his heart. In my mind, marriage was supposed to last forever, when you agree to “until death do you part.” You accepted each other’s weaknesses and imperfections, and all the good and bad times that were part of the pact. Not only was it my religious beliefs, but also the way it’s supposed to be when two people truly pledge their love for one another. Forever is eternity. I just wasn’t sure at that very moment I could make that promise, or if I would, or wanted to be his forever. I told him what I had been hashing over in my mind and the fear and confusion I felt making a lifetime commitment.

The warmth of his hands eventually broke the surreal moment as he reached for mine and held them tight within his. Tears streaked his young face as he professed his love for me. He told me he had loved me from the first time he laid eyes on me. He told me what was in his heart. At that very moment, sitting at our small second hand dining room table, I really looked into his eyes and saw into his heart. I knew I loved him more than life and made the decision to be with him and to never look back. Oh, once in a while I wonder what would have happened if he took his love that day and walked away. I also wondered how that split second in time would have defined the rest of our lives. But...this is not a story of how life went on and we lived happily ever after. It’s not about the birth of our children nor is it about the deaths of our loved ones. It's not about the joy and heartbreak a couple endures.  It’s not about our spirituality or the possessions we own. It’s not about trust, honesty and compatibility. It’s as simple as seeing the look of pure love in someone’s eyes. The unspoken words that the eyes reveal when they tell you are the love of their life that you always was, and always will be.  It's the gel that meshes two people together...

One of our favorite things to do for the past 40 years is to scour for antiquities of the distant past and to find that one of a kind something that had meaning to each of us even if it meant digging, dragging, and hauling it from different areas of the country. One of our many shared interests has always been music and its many genres. More specifically, we love old gramophones, or as they are referred in general, the old talking machines. We have found many through the years but not one that had heart.

A few weeks ago, we happened to be browsing a shop we hadn’t frequented in quite a while. I usually go my way and my husband goes his, both of us searching to acquire a lost treasure. I already made my way to the farthest end of the shop and was peacefully browsing for some of the things I collect, when my husband comes around the corner, grabs my hand, and drags me with him to the opposite side of the store. “Why can’t it wait until I got done looking?” I protested. “It can wait,” he said. “What I need to show you can’t. You have to see what I found.” Well, you guessed it, my curiosity was peaked!

After practically dragging me to the farthest corner of the shop, there stood a beautiful mahogany sideboard hidden behind a montage of items. “What do you think?” he asked after he zigzagged through the maze and stood beside it. “Beautiful,” I replied. Indeed, it was a beautiful piece of furniture but I wasn’t sure if I needed something that ornate. He flashed me that devilish boyish grin that makes me melt and says, “Wait there’s more.” He revealed the cabinet had three compartments, and the one on the right was a phonograph. “And…it works!” He cranked the handle, placed the arm on the record he had waiting on the turntable, and the scratchy sound of Ethel Waters singing Stormy Weather began to play. Tears welled in my eyes and what I refer to as, “that mushy look” washed all over his face. When our eyes met, we both knew it was ours. “Do you think the records come with it?” I asked. He shrugged his shoulders and before he could answer, I hurried to the counter to inquire about it. The answer was “yes.” When I returned to my excited spouse, he was closely examining the cabinet and the phonograph components. “Not only is this solid mahogany, it is hand carved. Look here, you can see a few chisel marks…” he pointed out. I ran my fingers over the cabinet’s detail as another record played. I didn’t have to say I wanted or needed it when he whispered, “Happy Anniversary.” I was given the Hope Diamond of record players to commemorate forty years of an ongoing hunt.

So, here it is...the new addition to our home, a Meteor, The Star Of The Talking Machines. We brought it home last Saturday with its original finish and placed it in its special place. Upon picking it up, the owner of the antique shop told us there were two owners of the phonograph, the woman who originally purchased it est. 1905, and her nephew who inherited it. His aunt would be pleased to know we've been having a wonderful time playing the old 78's to the flicker of candlelight in the evenings. It will take a while to play all 150 of them...Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw, George Gershwin, Jimmy Dorsey, Ozzie Nelson collections along with some children’s stories and early country and jazz. Al Jolson, Ben Bernie, Paul Whiteman, and a few Enrico Caruso songs also grace this stack of vintage records.

I know “Auntie” will be smiling down on us this coming June 24th. We will be dancing cheek to cheek like we did years ago in the high school gym. The Peerless Quartet will be singing Let Me Call You Sweetheart, and we will be momentarily lost in time. Sometime during that sublime moment, we’ll tip our wedding glasses filled with a soft red wine, we will toast to the here, the now, and to our future, and hope that the warmth of our affections survive the frosts of old age…