We were in our pre-20s when it started, I was 18 and she 17. Nobody really warns you when it’s going to happen or how it’s going to happen, it just does.
It was the year 1971, I was on holiday with my mates and the beaches in North Devon was the place to be. We were staying at this hotel nearby and that’s when I first saw her. I just knew I had to approach her, one way or another. The sun went down and she had just finished her work shift at the hotel we were staying at, so I decided to ask her out for a drink. We exchanged names and talked about what we were up to in our lives. She told me how this was her summer job and she would be starting college soon, the same was for me. We didn’t have social media back then and phones weren’t the most reliable yet. Pen and ink were all I could put my faith in. Summer was coming to an end and all I was left with were memories of the nights we spent just chatting away.
College began and there were 3 whole years keeping me apart from her, and so I began writing to her. One letter after another, back and forth. Within those letters, I invited her over for Christmas and so did she the following summer. I met her family and she met mine. Slowly but inevitably, this relationship began to blossom into something greater than I could’ve imagined.
Just like that, 3 years went by and we both started working close-by. Things were moving quickly, and at this point, I knew I had to make a move. Now, this is the part that didn’t go as smoothly as I hoped it would. ‘The proposal’, is an indelicate topic I think is best left untouched. All I can say is that she said ‘YES’ and we’ve had 44 beautiful years of marriage ever since. The secret? Good wine of course.
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