Eternal Sweethearts

By Sandra Wilkins

I want to pay tribute to Veteran’s Day this year by telling a love story. My paternal grandparents were married on November 11, 1942 in a pastor’s home just a couple of days before he went into the Army Air Corps after being drafted. Following boot camp and being stationed at various U.S. bases, he was sent to Framlingham Air Base in England. He was with the 568^th Bomb Sq. of the 390^th Bomb Group. He was trained as a mechanic, but, mostly, his work consisted of loading bombs onto the B-17’s that flew day missions over Germany. He was there about three years and he and my grandma wrote numerous love letters back and forth—which she saved in a scrapbook. I want to share part of one of them with you:

       

                                                                                                  Somewhere in England,

                                                                                                            May 19, 1944

 Dearest Wife,

             I will answer your letters I received today. I was really glad to hear from you. I am okay and I hope this finds you the same…

            Darling, I received the pictures today that you sent me. They are really good pictures. As I sit here now looking at your picture while I write this letter I can’t see how I was ever lucky enough to get a sweet girl like you. Sweetheart I love you so much. You get more beautiful every day.

            Darling I can’t hardly wait until we can be together again. Pictures make me homesick but I love to get them. A couple of the boys here in the barracks want the picture with you on the horse but I wouldn’t part with any of them for anything in this world…

            You know honey sometimes I wish we had a baby but with this war on one can’t tell what will happen…

                                                           
                             With all my Love,

                                        Melvin

            In one letter he said he was scheduled to go to the Pacific theater and he dreaded the possibility. He was able to get leave and landed in the U.S. on Grandma’s birthday in 1945. World War II ended and he was discharged. They ended up having two boys—the youngest is my dad. My grandparents had a long, happy life together. They helped each other with whatever had to be done. He could cook and clean and she helped with building things and gardening.

            They were eternal sweethearts—holding hands, laughing, sharing their love of music and being there for each other in sickness and health, in good times and bad. I wonder how they were able to stay that way. Maybe, the threat of looming death at the beginning makes spouses more grateful and they never take each other for granted.

            Grandma passed away in 1996 and Grandpa in 2008. He never dated anyone after she passed, but waited for the time they could be together again. I long to know their secret. The older I get, the more I wish I could ask them how they lived such a shining example of love and joy in marriage because it was an amazing thing to see.

   Sandra Wilkins is busy writing another series while home educating her two daughters. Ada’s Heart, Rose’s Hope and Gwen’s Honor are her first three published wholesome historical romances.
 Go to www.sandrawilkins.com to find out more about her and her books.

Ah! Weddings.

By

Sandra Wilkins

            The bride is blushing underneath her long filmy veil.  A bouquet of fragrant roses and baby’s breath tremors in her hands as she takes her father’s arm, and tentatively steps down the aisle to the romantic melody of Wagner’s “Bridal Chorus”.  Lovingly, she gazes at the confident, handsome groom as he awaits her arrival to be at her side forever…

            Ah!   Weddings.  They evoke thoughts of beauty for some and maybe angst for others—depending on your point of view.  Some young women go to extremes to have the “perfect” day.  Even to the extent of becoming a “bridezilla” and spending a fortune on that “hallowed” occasion.  Being the extremely practical person I am, I didn’t particularly want all that fuss and fluff when I got married twenty-something years ago.  In the age of big hair and shoulder pads I was going to be a rebel.    

            Simplicity was the key for me.  It began with the gown.  No fancy, frilly concoctions for me.  I wanted a restrained Edwardian style frock.  My mom helped me find a pattern and the creamy off-white material and then my great aunt Dorothy graciously made the dress for me.  I’ll treasure it always. 

            Next were the flowers.  Not one for expensive things, I opted for silk flowers and made the bouquet and boutonnieres myself.  The bouquet is still as pretty today.  My dad’s cousin played the wedding march, my aunt took the photographs, a neighbor made the elegant three-tiered wedding cake (with the topper from my parent’s cake) and my mom made the chocolate grooms cake. 

            It was a personal ceremony in our small church.  All of my grandparents and one great grandmother were still alive to witness the occasion.  The most special part for me was visiting with the friends and family who attended the modest reception.  Simplicity isn’t for everyone, so I’m curious—what kind of wedding did you have? 

     Sandra Wilkins is busy writing another series while home educating her two daughters.  Ada’s Heart, Rose’s Hope and Gwen’s Honor are her first three published wholesome historical romances.  Go to www.sandrawilkins.com to find out more about her and her books. 

  

How I Met My Husband: Destiny and Fire Safety

by Victoria M. Johnson

It was the eighties: Ronald Reagan was president, Michael Jackson's album Thriller topped the charts, and big hair and leg warmers were fashion hits.  I was in the Air Force and fresh out of tech school as an aerovac medic (air medical evacuation).  On my first assignment at Travis Air Force Base in Northern California, I found out everyone at the hospital had to participate in an emergency fire safety exercise.  My supervisor signed me up.  I had no choice in the date selection.  I went and that's where I first met him.

You know how they say when you meet 'the one' that you hear bells ringing?  I swear when our eyes locked I heard those bells.  I also felt out of breath and giddy.  I should point out that I'm not the giddy type.  I graduated from basic training as an honor grad and a marksman.  At that time I held a red belt in Tae Kwon Do.  So, there we were in this overcrowded outdoor staging area with perhaps a hundred people: doctors, nurses, sergeants, airmen, officers, MPs--and for me it was as if the world stopped spinning and only the two of us stood there. 

He smiled at me and I smiled back.  He had captivating green eyes and dark blondish hair.  He looked athletic and decisive.  I noticed three stripes on his shoulders--I had only one on mine.  A good thing about the military, we all wore nametags.  His said, Johnson.  He boldly joined the circle of friends I sat with and introduced himself.  I admired his confidence.  We talked for a few minutes and in that short time I discovered he had a great sense of humor.  But we didn't get much time, both whisked away into different groups.  He was assigned the rescuer group and I went into the patient group. 

An hour and a half later I wondered if I would ever see him again.  The people in my group were given safety briefings then we were divided up and thrust into separate hospital rooms.  All I knew about him was his name, Senior Airmen Johnson.  For all I knew his group had been dismissed and he was back on his ward working.  I didn't know which ward.  And there I was with five other people sitting and standing around a two-bed patient room, waiting.

Then, we all heard the fire alarms sound off.  The adrenaline pumped through me.  For a moment I forgot it was an exercise.  But someone reminded me and others to stay put.  Suddenly the door burst open, and I mean burst, like a saloon door in the Old West.  There stood Senior Airmen Johnson.  He spotted me and walked straight for me.  Without a beat he threw me over his shoulder in the firemen's carry we had just learned, and waltzed out of the "burning" hospital building with me wriggling saying, "You can put me down now."

Let me digress a moment here, in the romance-writing world there is a thing called the twelve stages of intimacy, which I wouldn't learn until several years later, but this man just leaped from a stage one to a stage seven with his rescuing me!  Needless to say, he made quite a first impression.

There might not have been a real fire in the hospital that day, but he had set my heart on fire.  I knew he was the one I would marry.  The ensuing love story is for another rainy day.  I am happy to say that over thirty years later, my hero, my husband, is still the love of my life.  And he is every bit the cowboy that I suspected he was.

Victoria M. Johnson knew by the time she was ten that she wanted to be a writer.  She loves telling stories and she's happiest when creating new characters and new plots.  Avalon Books and Montlake Romance published Victoria's fiction debut, The Doctor’s Dilemma, (A 2012 Bookseller’s Best double finalist).  Her other fiction book is a collection of romance short stories titled, The Substitute Bride and a novella, Hot Hawaiian Christmas. She is also the writer and director of four short films and two micro documentaries.   Visit Victoria's website at http://VictoriaMJohnson.com for inspiration and tips and find her Amazon author page or connect with her on Pinterest and Twitter.