I have a bad case of the flu.  Up all night.  Will blog Mon.

James 2:5  "And the tongue is a little member, (of the body) and boasts great things.  Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindles."  Here's the story to go with that verse.  Ken is the villain.

After I started cleaning, I kept at it and straightened everything in the house.  I found this beautiful medal in one of the drawers in the bedroom.  "What did you do to get this medal," I asked him.
"I'll tell you only if you promise to keep it to yourself.  I don't want to brag."
"Tell me!"
"It was awarded to me for being the greatest fighter pilot in the Marine Corps."

That night we went to a squadron party, my first.  Everyone wanted to meet Ken's new bride.  One of the pilots who came up to welcome me was J. L. Smith.  He had a beautiful gold medal on a blue ribbon around his neck.  "My husband has a gold medal like that," I told him.
"Really,  I bet you are very proud of him," he told me.  "How did he receive it?" he asked.
"I'm not supposed to tell.  He doesn't want to brag."
"You can tell me, I'm a good friend of his.  He won't mind if you tell me."
He was so very nice.  So polite. So I told him.
Next day Ken came storming in the door, "What did you tell J.L. about me being the world's greatest fighter pilot?"  He wasn't happy.  "The medal abound J.L's. neck is the Congressional Medal of Honor!!  He was the ace in World War II in Europe.  He's on the cover of Life magazine for Pete's sake."
So why did you tell me you were the greatest?  And what is that medal in the drawer?"
"Football.  I got it playing for the Pensacola Goslings.  I'm never going to live this down.  The entire squadron is going to rag me for the rest of my life."
"You shouldn't have teased me.  I thought you were telling me the truth.  Now, all the people in the squadron are going to think I'm really dumb."
"Naw," he said. "They think you are cute.  And very loyal to your man."

James 4:13b "You that say, today or tomorrow we will go into such a city and continue there a year…"
James 14:14  "You don't know what will happen tomorrow.  For what is your life?  It is even a vapor, that appears for a little time, and then vanishes away."

"You will go into such a city (Pensacola) and continue there a year….," well I didn't make it.  I was so lonesome I could die.  I got on a bus and went back to Oklahoma after four months.  I didn't think of it as 'leaving Ken.'  I just couldn't stand it any more.  I had no one but Ken in Pensacola and he was never home.  I took a leave of absence from my job, kissed Ken goodbye and left.

Two weeks later he called.  "Are you coming back?"
"Do you want me to come back?"
"You know I do."
"Maybe I'll be back in a week or so."
My dad took the phone out of my hand and said, "Ken, I'm putting her on the bus tomorrow."

My dad was a very sweet man who seldom asserted himself.  He had never ever told me what to do.  He left that up to my mother.  That's when I knew I was really married.  That's when I knew that Pryor wasn't my home anymore.

"You don't know what will happen tomorrow.  For what is your life?"  Well, mine was settled.  I was a Marine Corp wife.  I just had to figure out how to do it.  Like most eighteen year old girls, I had thought it would be 'dreamy' and romantic.  Which it was, occasionally.  Then reality set in.  This was going to require something of me.  I hadn't ever thought that far ahead.

I started by tearing up a towel and dusting our house.  It was a pit.  

James 1: 18-19  "Of his own will he begat us with the word of truth, that we should be a kind of first fruits of his creatures, Wherefore…let everyone be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger:  For the wrath of man does not work the righteousness of God."

If ever there was  a person swift to hear and slow to speak, Ken was it.  And his response when I was angry was  to just listen, and watch me.  Just watch.  So frustrating.  I wanted him to react, but he never did.  The difference in our ages was a good  thing.  He was very patient.  I was in a strange place with not a single friend, no family, no car and living at the end of nowhere by the reed covered backwaters of the Florida shore.  Not another person for miles.  I spent my days waiting for him to come home.  He spent his working with cadets.  It was grueling work.  He came home really tired every day.  And hungry.

But with no car, I couldn't go get groceries.  So most nights we would go to the grocery store and try to figure out what to cook.  I had never bought groceries.  I didn't know what to do with them.  But I tried.  I really worked hard at it.  Some of my efforts were inedible.  But Ken ate it.  He never said a negative word.  Except once.  "I can't eat Spam.  I'll eat anything you fix but Spam."  Seems like when he was in Korea, the supply ship couldn't get in and the only thing the cook had on the shelves was canned Spam--for a month.  "Spam and eggs, Spam sandwiches, Sweet and sour Spam, Chopped Spam with Mac and Cheese, ….I just can't do Spam," he told me.  Everything else I put in front of him for fifty-seven years, he ate.  And because he was so good about my efforts, I didn't give up.  I got better at it.

Be swift to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger.  Great advice.  I was so blessed to have Ken for my best friend.  "Janie's a great cook," he told his friends.  "She's always ready to try something new."  Encouragement and praise work wonders.  Criticism doesn't.

The wedding was like a story book.  Military.  Seven guys in dress whites flew in from Pensacola in a Beechcraft.  White covers (hats), Ivory handled swords.  Bridesmaids in rainbow colors.  The church was so full that people were standing.  Ken's father officiated.  It was a beautiful wedding.  Pryor had never seen a military wedding before that--or since that.  Things like that don't happen here.

The arch of swords finished it off and as I went under them, I got a whack on the rear.  Custom in the Marine Corps.  We were married.  My plan had been to start college in September at OSU.  I was pre-enrolled and had a corner room in the dorm--a big deal because you got an extra window.  Ken's persistence changed all that.  I had to find a new normal.

"I met all your requirements?" I asked him--expecting some sweet answer like, "You exceeded them all."  But he said, "No, you only met eight of them."  I was flabbergasted.  "What do you mean!!  What two didn't I meet?"

"You are way to young.  And you have never have had to manage on your own.  You have always lived at home.  But I think you are smart enough to figure it all out.    You'll do."

He was right.  I had a lot to learn.  He said "You'll do" a lot.

He brought the pay check in the next month and laid it on the table.  "Here's what we earn."  WE.  "You have to learn how to manage it.  I will be gone a lot.  You'll have to take care of everything."

I spent it.  I didn't know about utilities.  Or telephone bills.  Or credit cards--I had never seen one.  It was really bad.  I had to find a real job to dig myself out.  Which I did.  The next month he laid the check on the table and said, "This is what we earn.  Don't get discouraged.  You'll do okay."  He never ever criticized me.  He never said a negative word.

He called that day.  "Did you try it on?"
"I did."
"Are you going to leave it on?"
"I'm thinking about it."  Truth was I had a date with another guy that night and there was no way I was going to leave it on.

Next day, I had a heart to heart with my mom.  "How do you know when you meet the right person?"
My mom was very wise.  "Everyone in Pryor adores him.  The men look up to him.  It's obvious he is in love with you.  He leads a fascinating and exciting life.  You won't be bored.  You could look the rest of your life and never find a better man.  And he will take care of you.  He is financially established.  You won't struggle.  And……he is soooooo good looking."  (Operative word)

When he flew in that weekend, I handed him the ring.  "You put it on my finger, and I will marry you."  And I did.  It took him from my birthday in March until August to convince me.  Six months of flying back and forth every weekend.  Best decision of my life. Looking back from 57 years later, I have one regret.  I didn't really have a clue who he was and didn't know how to appreciate how wonderful he was.  It took awhile.  I knew nothing about the Marine Corps and what an honor it was to be a part of all that.  He was a senior Captain.  I was just a kid.   I couldn't cook, I couldn't clean, I sent everything to the dry cleaners--even our under ware.  I had never washed a load of clothes.  (Remember that when I started to blog a year ago I told you that in my mother's house if you were reading a book, you didn't have to help with the housework.  Naturally I was always reading.)

The last week of his life, he looked up at me and said, "I'm so glad you married me."
"It has been such a great privilege to be your wife," I told him. "If I could do it over again, I would do it six months sooner.  All I did was waste time."

I loved him.  He loved me.  What else is there?

So after that chance meeting in September, I never heard from him again.  I didn't expect to hear from him.  He was my parent's friend, not mine.  But the following year, the last of March, he called my father and asked if he could have his permission to pursue me with marriage in mind.  My dad said,  "Does she know anything about this."

"No sir, I haven't spoken to her since last September.  She has no idea that I am interested.  She is so much younger than I am that I wanted to be sure you didn't object.  I was waiting until she turned 18 before I said anything to you."

My dad adored Ken and viva versa.  My dad said, "You certainly have my permission.  Catch her if you can,"  I don't think either one of them considered that I would say no.  Which I did.  Over and over.

Every weekend, Ken would finish his week at the training command, fly over Pryor very low, break the sound barrier,  (which was illegal) and rattle windows, land in Tulsa and spend the weekend trying to convince me to marry him.  Chanel #5, etc. etc.,  a very worn book from the Pensacola library: Cyrano De Bergerac.  I wonder if he had any plan to return it?  People would meet me downtown and say, "Why don't you marry him so this town can have some peace again."

Finally, after weeks and weeks he asked, "What is it going to take?"  I flippantly replied.  "Close to a carat, set in platinum, four prongs and a perfect diamond."  It came in the mail two days later.  Of course I took it to the jeweler to see if it was real.  "I never saw a perfect diamond before, I'm sure it must have a flaw, but I can't find one." he said.  I was shocked.  This was serious.  And I had been teasing.  Like I said in James 1: 17 "Every good and every perfect gift is from above and comes down from the father of lights in whom there is no variableness, neither shadow of turning."  This was turning out to be perfect in more ways than one.  I had started to realize that Ken was pretty perfect himself.