M&D

Today, I'm thinking of my parents who are celebrating their 30th Wedding Anniversary. I'm looking forward to heading home in a few days to celebrate with them. Living across the country, I value these trips more than ever. One thing I enjoy most about my visits with my family are the stories from my parents of their younger years, including how they met... My parents met in the winter of 1980 at a Christmas party with a bunch of America's Cup sailors in Newport, Rhode Island. My Mother credits their introduction to a rather forward hello on her part, which is certainly uncharacteristic for her. At the time of their meet & greet, my Father had his arms around two different girls. (To this day, he will squirm and smirk when my Mother emphasizes this portion of said encounter). They got chatting about their respective upbringings in upstate New York and a few days later, my Father casually visited my Mother at work to ask her out.

On their first date, my Father asked when my Mother's birthday was. When it was revealed that it was in fact the next day, he insisted that they celebrate. The next evening, they went to dinner. This is usually the intersection where my Father will take over the storytelling. Turns out, my Mother had to be home promptly by 8:00 PM that evening for another "obligation". That obligation was her "former" college boyfriend who drove to Newport from New York City to take her out for her birthday...

Needless to say, the questionable guest from New York City didn't stick around for long. Fast-forward through my parents' love affair to the summer of 1983 in the Adirondacks, when after my Grandfather's blessing, my Father proposed to my Mother. They were married on May 19, 1984 in the Ocean State - their Reverend allegedly wore Sperrys without socks whilst performing the nuptials.

When leaving their reception at the Glen Manor House, their wedding guests threw oatmeal (in lieu of rice) on my parents as they were whisked away in the rain to the airport for their Honeymoon in Greece. They laughed, arriving to the airport in a vintage Rolls Royce, my Mother in a white ensemble, my Father in his best, both covered in soggy wet oatmeal.

On the first day of Spring in 1987, my Parents welcomed me into the world. I am told I may or may not be the product of a "good time" at Block Island Race Week...