Tom and Liz: A love story

This weekend is a big deal.

Bigger than the CNN story last weekend. Bigger than the Colin Powell room yesterday. Heck, bigger than anything in my 40-something life.

Tomorrow is my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary.

Tom and Liz were a couple of kids from rural Nebraska when they met. Dad was a bit of a wild child (more accurately, “rambunctious” with a twist of creativity), while Mom was about as straight laced as they came. Funny. Warm. But a very good girl, a they say.

Dad graduated a year ahead of her, and was thoroughly enjoying life as a Sigma Nu on the UNL campus in Lincoln…when he wasn’t feeling frustrated by the fact he knew more about agriculture than his professors (which he did).

Mom was 98 miles down the road, in Grand Island, enjoying her role as an upperclassman while pining away for one of Tom’s classmates who’d joined the Navy, based in San Diego.

Another high school senior, Diane, couldn’t bear to watch her best friend, Liz, feeling lonely while their peers nibbled fries at Nifty’s and bopped at sock hops. To remedy the situation, Diane and her boyfriend, Dick, set Liz up on a blind date with Tom.

Now, Tom was quite the confident fellow (read: a might bit cocky). He was tall, handsome, funny, and social. The kind of guy that attracts people like a magnet.

Except for Liz. She was thinking of a certain someone in San Diego, remember. And “cocky” wasn’t exactly her cup of tea. At all.

Well, Tom was also pretty head strong, and knew what he wanted the moment he met her.

He was going to marry this one. Period.

By the end of the first date, Liz was pretty much done with this whole Tom deal.

By the end of the same date, Tom was all but picking out a tux.

They went on a second date. To this day, Liz doesn’t know why she said yes. After all, Tom wasn’t the love of her life. Mr. San Diego was.

On that second date, Tom announced to Liz he was going to marry her.

She balked.

But she agreed to a third date. Then a fourth. Then a fifth, and so on and so on.

Well, several months rolled by and Mr. San Diego (who also turns out to have a bit of a pre-existing rivalry with Tom, quite unbeknownst to Liz) was removed from the love letters list. The young couple kept dating, happily. Liz finished out her senior year of high school while Tom finished out his freshman year in college.

The day of high school graduation, Tom offered to give Liz a ride from the ceremony to her parents’ house, where a traditional all-the-relatives graduation party was under way. En route, Tom tells her to open the glove compartment. Her graduation gift is in there.

She holds her breath, wondering what Mr. Shock and Surprise was up to. She opens the door to find not one, but two small ring boxes, then gasps, thinking “Oh no. What’s this all about?”

Remember, he’s big into pronouncment, but short on wind up.

The first box contained a beautiful pearl ring. Being “pearled” in that day and age was the equivalent of pre-engagement. Big step. BIG one.

The other box contained a diamond ring. WAY BIGGER STEP. Pretty big honkin’ diamond, too.

She chose the pearl.

Six months later, she married him.

Forty years later, Tom bought Liz an even bigger diamond ring, saying he loved her as much then as he did the day he proposed.

Of course, Liz is still waiting for the proposal part.

Tomorrow marks year 50, and they’re still as crazy about each other as they were the day they said “I do.” Maybe crazier (about each other, not in a psycho-nuts0 way).

I love you, Mom and Dad, and couldn’t be more proud to be your daughter. You exemplify everything love, respect, commitment, and partnership are meant to be. You’ve raised three kids who adore and admire you. And you’ve created a family three generations deep that sincerely enjoys spending time together.

Quite a list of accomplishments.

Here’s to many, many more years of hugs at the front door, I love yous on the phone, laughing ‘til we cry, and warm, heartfelt smiles as you look at each over the dining room table each Christmas….

xoxoxo -C