We finally told my parents that we plan to get married in June. We took them to dinner at their favorite restaurant, The Van Dyke, where I used to work. It went as well as could be expected. My parents said the appropriate oohhhs and aahhhhhs, and congratulations; they didn’t even mention that they would be losing their box jumping magic assistant. But then my dad went into all the statistics he could think of about how most marriages fail, especially between young people, and that we have less than a 50-50 chance of making it. My parents were both married once before; just because they didn’t make it the first time doesn’t mean we won’t. My mom didn’t say anything negative, but she doesn’t usually anyway. She is easy going and doesn’t want to make any waves anywhere – as long as I didn’t piss off Daddy, I am fine with Mom. I never want to piss off anyone, so we are good, and we get along great.
Based on the things she has mentioned about her past, Mom was no saint before she got married either. She also started college at 16; she just didn’t finish, and got married and had a baby by age 19. I don’t know what she would have done if she stayed in school. The 1940s was definitely a different era, and what women did for their men and their country was different from today. Thank God we are not in a war now. As Democrats, my parents are not thrilled about having Reagan as the President of the United States, but at least we are at peace.
Anyway, I was really nervous about telling them, but it’s good to have it finally out in the open. Lou didn’t actually ask my father for permission to marry his daughter, so there wasn’t that awkward moment of waiting for his reply, not knowing what it would be. I think if my dad actually had veto power, he would have used it on this decision.