...last week, I came home from a long evening of studying for my "Air Defense" exam at the Surface Warfare Officers School in Newport, and faced up to that which I was not willing to for the previous three months.
That I was completely in love with the young woman who had left her home in Australia on a visa-waiver and a prayer to see if there was "anything there" between herself and a young Navy officer.
So, with less than a week left before she needed to depart the United States, I proposed. In bed. Okay, I think the actual words were "well, we could get married". Shocked discussion ensued, interspersed with the occasional trip to the living-room bar for slugs of Jose Cuervo, and within a day or so we had the ball rolling...immigration attourney, marriage license, appointment at the J-O-P.
And eleven years ago today, at about 0945, I finished up my exam, picked up Sarah, went to a J-O-P and we got married. It was, by far, the smartest thing I have ever done.
Eleven years, four children and six moves later, I stand by that assessment.
Now there's a lot more to the story...mostly about how I was a jackass who was resisting the whole way, and other stupid things I did, and Sar tells the story better than I do.
Happy Anniversary, Honey!
In short: The Mechanic (1972)
20 hours ago