December 17, 2018. Madison, Mississippi. The Love Story.

The story can be told and re-told but the story is always fresh and true. On Christmas Eve 1955, Ken noticed me and I noticed him while the young people from church sang Christmas carols for the shut ins. On New Years Day along with several other friends from church several cars of the young people from church drove to Peteborough to skate on the canal and have lunch with Major and Mrs. Gibson. Ken and I did not drive there together but we came home in the same car. We have been an item ever since and we married two and a half years later. Ken wrote me a letter after the day skating. In the letter he told me to get ready to be his wife because some time down the road, he would ask me. I had just turned 18 and I had an active busy social life. I thought the letter was funny and I laughed. But Ken was deadly serious. He wanted to have a happy family life and he wanted me to be his wife. It was a love story. He was smitten by my energy and happy disposition and I was smitten by his bright eyes and obvious intellect. He also was the only person I went out with who would not always do what I told him to do, so I was intrigued. Before we married we often argued but during the 60 years of marriage we did not find fault with each other and we did not fight ever. We each had our own lives and our own careers. We were like railroad tracks with the railroad tied together with our common interests and our family. But Ken always looked after me. He made sure that everything in the house worked well. He took care of my technical tasks. Any work when I had trouble with technology I called for Regina. At home I called for Ken. Just since we came home from Nova Scotia Ken installed new night lights in our bedroom and bathroom. He ordered them on line and installed them without asking. When I asked how we had new lights, he told me that he thought that the old night lights were not bright enough. They are there now. They come on at dusk and turn off at sunrise and they lighten my path. Ken wanted me to be safe. It is as old a story as ever there has been, but the difference is that it involves me. For sixty years Ken has been looking after me and pushing me. He gave us hundreds of ideas, some of which I implemented. For the past few years he has told me many times that I was the most beautiful woman in the world. And he would say that he knew that was not true but he said that for him, I was always the most beautiful woman in the world. I would laugh and he would weep because he would tell me that he realized that in the past, he never said it out loud, just in his head. Canadians are stoics and keep emotions in check but Parkinson's patients are unable to mask the emotions so Ken would weep. But he told me just this week how beautiful I was in his eyes. Ours was a true love story. Our road was often rocky but we were always true to each other. I thank God every day for having Ken in my life. My present life will be easier without tending to Ken's ailments but my life will not be as interesting since Ken has gone to heaven. But here I go. Home alone for the first time in my life. Thank God I have friends and family.