My grandfather was one of my all-time three greatest heroes. The man had to drop out of school at age six after he'd learn to read and write. That was in 1894 and the family, German immigrants, needed all the pennies they could secure.
His name was Joseph and he married sometime around 1915 to a woman named Blanche. They didn't have natural children but adopted a boy, my dad, in 1923. Grandma Blanche passed away in 1950.
As a child, around age 5 I believe, was my first recollection of gifts and Santa Claus and all the festivities surrounding it. We always opened our gifts on Christmas Eve. Before we opened presents Grandpa always requested a record be put on the player. It was a Perry Como tune; can't remember the title. As soon as it began tears ran down Grandpa's cheeks and last until the song concluded.
It went on this way until my grandfather passed away. His last Christmas was in 1974.
Some of you may have questions as to the why of this scenario. It's quite simple, really. Joseph and Blanche were married on December 24. I'm sure it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Today, I saw a picture on Facebook of a couple in Storm Lake, Iowa who were married on Deceber 31, 2017. The man is the grandson of long time friends. Someday, unless both these kids have Alzheimer's at the same time they're going to experience great sadness on days that are marked on the calendar.
The Queen and I got hitched on December 27. There's nothing special about that one. I checked beforehand. Even today, after 48 years the 27th is non-eventful.
So, don't get married on Christmas, New Years, Easter, Halloween. St. Patrick's Day would be okay for awhile until drink forced sadness, unless you passed out beforehand.
Better yet, why not exchange vows on February 29. Then if the other spouse is gone go to Vegas for the day and fall in love with a showgirl.
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