"My parents were married for almost seventy years. They lived through the depression, my Dad going to war, the birth of three children and countless times of not having enough money. My father always kissed my mother hello and goodbye and held her hand when they rode in the car. They celebrated two anniversaries, November 15, the day they were married and March 9, the day they met. Dad loved to tell the story of his first meeting with Mom. His family was moving into the White Springs community and a low overhanging limb was blocking the truck. His father sent him to the nearest house to borrow a saw. The closest house happened to be my mother’s and she helped him find the tools to remove the limb. They were 9 and 8 years old. The date was March 9, 1924.I asked my father what his secret was for staying happily married for that long. “Son,” he said.”Your mother and I had an agreement. She was to handle all of the small decisions and I was to handle all the big decisions. Luckily there hasn’t been a big decision yet.”
"Don’t marry someone you can live with, marry someone you can’t live without."
"Love is like penicillin shot. It’s good for you, but you know it’s going to be a pain in the butt."
"No matter how many times you help bathe your mother or how many times you help feed her or help get her get dressed, it will always be at least one less time than she did those things for you."