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I have many treasured objects that I would have trouble parting with. Among them are old pictures that were passed down to me from my mother, who received them from her mother. Also among them are my grandmother's wedding ring and my mother's first wedding ring, as well as the set that Daddy gave her after I was married to my first husband. I think it was for their 50th anniversary. And I have boxes of letters and writings of my father's, as well as letters my two brothers wrote home during World War II, when they were both in the Navy.

But I think the one thing that I treasure the most is a thin sheet of paper, which I have put into a frame and hung on my wall here in my computer room. It is yellowed with age, but precious in spite of the yellowing; that only proves that it is authentic and has been around for a long time. As far as I have been able to ascertain, it is the original of the marriage license sent to my parents after they married in 1924.

My parents met before my mother was six years old. Daddy was only fifteen when he decided that he was going to marry her. He had to wait nine years, until she was fourteen, to ask her father for her hand. She was fourteen years old in April; they married eight days before his twenty-fourth birthday. They stayed married for over sixty years; his death at the age of 99 ended the union. She followed him a little over two years later, never having actually "known" that he was gone, due to Alzheimer's.

But the union of these two, which began on September 4, 1924, produced seven children. Although neither of them had gone past the seventh grade, they determined that their children would not marry or quit school, but would graduate from high school. The last one, my youngest brother, graduated in 1961. By that time, I was finishing my freshman year in college, and he followed me to college. He finally received his degree about seven years and two children later.

Several of the grandchildren have also gone to college; I don't know of a one of them who has not at least completed high school. The influence of my parents on the entire family is still being felt today. We were taught to love each other and to work and play and sing together. We still do all the above. Although there are only three of the seven left, our extended family gets together each April to celebrate the family for a long weekend. We also spend time together several other times during the year.

For several years, none of us knew where the marriage license was, but after their deaths, we went through all their accumulated goods, and divided them out among us. I received all the letters and writings of Daddy's; my middle brother got most of Mother's writings (both had kept yearly diaries for years). In going through Daddy's things after I moved into this house with my second husband, I found the marriage license, which had been lost for many years. It is now in a prominent spot on the wall here in my computer room, where I can see it any time I walk into the room. It reminds me that true love is lasting and well worth searching for. When I am gone, that license, as well as all of Daddy's writings and my own, will go to my youngest daughter, who will cherish all of it as much as I do.

Learn more about this author, Barbara A. Black.
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