For as long as I can remember, when I recall visits to my beloved Granny’s house, I realize these were special moments in time, cherished memories of some of my earliest experiences, like the smell of fresh-baked cookies, antique furniture throughout the house, her wind-up telephone hanging on a wall in the hallway. She would ring up the local grocer, relay to him her grocery list, and the items would soon be delivered to her front door! 

Granny became an unexpected widow from an early age, when my grandfather suffered a sudden heart attack and was gone. She was left with two little girls to bring up alone, but never complained. She was a strong and independent woman, continued managing the dairy farm, and elected to never date anyone. Granny always told me “Thomas was my first and only love.” I never had the pleasure of meeting him because Mother was only ten when he died, but she always spoke of him with such reverence and love. I concluded through stories told by the two of them, he must have been a very special gentleman. 

One story particularly delighted and intrigued me. My grandfather owned and operated a dairy farm. Granny would tell stories of how he loved to take mother along with him on his route to deliver milk door to door. He’d fill his milk wagon with bottles of fresh milk, then sit mother up beside him on the buckboard, and go make his rounds. Apparently, he was a very friendly chap and a great storyteller. He’d take time to visit with each family along the way, entertaining them with lively stories, and often lending a helping hand, when needed.  

The story that fascinated me most was my grandfather often delivered milk to the Guy family, who it just so happened, turned out to be my daddy’s folks; ultimately, years later, my grandparents on the other side. There were seven children in Daddy’s family, four boys and three girls. Granny said my grandfather loved to tell the story of how, when Daddy was a little boy, he’d run out beside my Guy grandpa to meet the milk wagon when it arrived. One day Grandfather Thomas light-heatedly said to ‘Grandpa’ Guy, “Why don’t you just give me that fine young lad there to go with my little girl?” 

Years later, mother & daddy both ended up on the same hayride, and sparks flew! She fell in love with Daddy and he with her. She eloped with him at sixteen. He was 23. Their marriage lasted 65 years, and they were genuinely in love with each other until the day she died. I’ve often wondered if the universe conspired to bring them together on that very day Grandfather Thomas jokingly asked Grandpa Guy to just give him that fine young lad to go with his little girl….?

Note: I had not thought of this wonderful story for decades until I began exploring the recesses of my memory to begin writing personal stories. With what I've learned along the way, I now believe perhaps the universe did conspire to bring my mother & daddy together when they grew up...just like my grandfather had spoken it many years before. 

“The unexamined life is not worth living.” – Socrates

The discipline of writing our story takes us deeply within to discover nuggets of gold long forgotten. I believe writing our story holds great value for military families for whom life seems uncertain and temporary. Writing our story be a lifeline to creating legacy for our family and for future generations.  

What stories can you share with me to begin building our Warrior Wives Community?