Fifty-six years ago, on May 21, 1955, Dave and I were married in the tiny Fishtown Chapel on the grounds of Mystic Seaport, Mystic, Conn.  Fr. Jim Annand was the officiant.  Jim was also the priest responsible for my becoming an Episcopalian. 

He led a group of college students in Westerly, RI, as a seminarian.  Dave and I joined the weekly gab sessions, loosely arranged around Bible study.  I was attending Christ Church regularly with David, and these weekly meetings gave me an opportunity to learn more about the Episcopal Church.

Fr. Jim went on to be our curate at Christ Church once he was ordained.  Then, a short time later, after Jim and his wife, Connie, had returned to their native California to serve a church there, our Vestry called Jim to be our Rector.  To our surprise and joy, Jim accepted.

That May 21, so many years ago, was a lovely, warm Saturday, just like today.  We had gotten permission to be married in the chapel, and Jim had gotten permission to be the officiant.  What none of us planned on was the influx of tourists on that lovely day.  They crowded into the small chapel that held, comfortably, only about 60 people.  Consequently, many of our guests were left outside, trying to peer through the doors, at the ceremony.

It was a bit of a mess, and sadly, many hard feelings on the part of some of our guests.  Our own wedding pictures were destroyed by one of our wonderful Labrador Retrievers, but we live on in many films taken by strangers on that crazy day!

We weathered that, and some very rocky times.  We were both young; Dave turned 21 that August, and my 21st wasn't until the next February.  Then, on March 6, that next year, we became parents for the first time.  Thankfully, this first child was our daughter, whose innate nature is one of peacemaker and helper.  Her sunny personality helped us get through those early years as we learned to be a couple, AND parents.

We threatened to be swallowed up by our birth families.  Dave is an only child, and his mother was a widow; she was a strong personality who expected to be in charge.

I was the oldest of three; my brother was 13 and my sister 7 when we were married.  My dad, a widower, depended upon me for far too much, and for several of the early years, I was still actively involved in "bringing up" my younger siblings.  At least 2-3 times a week, dad and the kids showed up for supper.

We finally made the decision to move to New Hampshire, and although leaving our respective parents behind wasn't the reason, it turned out to be a big factor in our finally becoming our own family.  So I consider the true beginning of this solid marriage really began 10 years after that May day.

Now, having just helped marry off my oldest grandchild, I look back at a life so full of blessings (not the least of which are those three kids of our own) that my daily prayer is "Our God is an Awesome God" and my heart is full of thankfulness.

At our grandson's wedding, this April, the whole family was together, including my sister and one of her children.  My brother died last year, and Dad in 1988.  Dave's mother died in 1994.  So Dave and I are the oldest in our respective families. 

We had a wonderful time celebrating the joining of this young couple.  The parents of the couple, and both sets of grandparents were sitting at the same table during the reception; we figured we represented a combined 190+ years of happy marriages.  This is a great gift to give to any young couple.

So, life is good, so VERY good.  Thanks be to that Awesome God.