Happy Bride; Elated Wife; Widow; Pariah

She was never getting married. She had a beautiful place to live. It was furnished with items that were investments and would only increase in value. Her job was paying her almost double compared to her friends doing different types of office work.

Her job with a "Fortune 500" company gave her special responsibilities and she knew that was her chance to get ahead in the company and continue on her path to financial freedom at an early age.

She'd finished high school early. She had always been the "baby" in the class. No, she did not start school early; she was pushed ahead. When she went to school for the first day, she was already years ahead of her age peers. She drove all the teachers crazy keeping her busy.

At home were all adults with college degrees or technical diplomas for special skills. Baby talk was never allowed. Slang and bad grammar was not tolerated either.

While in high school she studied at a very prestigious college on Saturdays. She hated the early morning wake-up on Saturday but she was determined to be a stand-out.

Many have yet to learn after more than forty years how she got one of the twenty eight seats allotted for the Saturday classes.

While out of her college studies and out of the office after five on Fridays, it was party time. She was always the youngest of her friends anywhere from two to four years. Having attended all girls' schools and having "brother" schools she was always safe with her friends.

All the boys, now men with respectable positions in many fields were old enough to drink. In those days, the gentlemen always ordered for the ladies. As long as the happy gang were well dressed and went to the best restaurants and clubs no one ever asked for proof of age.

Oh, the secrets they shared. Most were only children or the only girl or boy in the family and over many years this group became a sub-family of party makers and party goers. None ever really dated the others. That would have been almost like kissing a sibling.

All were free to bring "outsiders" as dates to whatever. Many affairs had "hold-the-date" cards; then the written invitation would arrive about three weeks before the affair.

However, the best parties were when nothing was planned. All would bring a dish to so and so's house and they would eat, talk and dance the night away.

Spring and Summer were not stop weekend parties. Autumn and those returning to college for higher degrees thinned the crowd and slowed the partying.

Summer, the last Saturday and last day in July, the brothers chartered a party boat that plied the harbor. All the usuals were there and others from the different fraternities and sororities joined in. They sailed at eight and went out three miles to international waters and slowly rocked that ship with the music and dancing back into port. Once tied up at the pier, a lot of happy people disembarked the ship about two and scattered throughout the city.

She had her share of drinks. Old enough and smart enough to hold down a powerful job but not legal to drink. Her mind and chronological age never matched.

By time she arrived home it was three. She was in bed by four.

Noises from hell awoke her at seven. Her Mom had reached her limit and read the "riot act". Included was, "I don't care how grown you are at work or with your friends, but you are not legal to be drinking. I've had it. I don't care if you pay half the bills for this house, you are leaving here right now. I don't care how bad you feel. Maybe you'll stop drinking if you feel bad all day."

It was matricide or leave the house dressed to the nines. Leaving the house about two hours later was the best choice. Ahhhhhh, the Baptist church is open. She took the bus and got off at the church and sat in the darkest part of the church. The church was dramatic with its theatre seating and lighting. She slept through the service in the dark with sunglasses covering the blood shot eyes.

The musicians played what seemed to be a loud fanfare to announce the visitors. Now she was awake and feeling the need of food and a Bloody Mary. She noticed the Marine Corps uniform. Ahhhhhh, not bad. The final hymn was announced and she tried to slip out, but got caught by two family friends. Both held her "hostage" to meet someone. She gave her excuses why she was in a hurry. She really had a place to go. In less than an hour a cook-out with an outside bar was to begin. She had already a set of clothes at that house. Yes, the friends had clothes in each other's closets. They never knew when a party would break out and having clothes away from home or sharing outfits was just natural. She never got to the cook-out.

The family friends called her Mom from the church's phone booth in the lobby and told her that "your daughter is bringing home a Marine for dinner. He has been in town for six days". She had to speak to her Mom and fix a smile on her face in the phone booth, everyone was watching but could not hear her Mom was still giving her hell, "but be home in ninety minutes".

They spent an hour walking the around the zoo. She learned later that is how he found the church. His ship had sailed in with him for the first time. Those familiar with the city knew where they were going. He declined to tag along and spotted a bus to the zoo.

The bus driver told him that was the end of the line and to return to the ship where to stand. Upon leaving the zoo, the Marine spotted a restaurant and went in for a "soda". The church owned the block and leased out the restaurant. It was a nice place. The senior ladies from the church heard him and knew he was not from the city. They pounced on him and invited him to sit with them. He did. He also learned in that city, the drink is called "tonic", never soda or cola.

The walk around the zoo sobered her up. They got on the bus and in minutes were entering the spacious house. The Mom was dressed and had prepared a meal that anyone would have been happy to sit and enjoy. Mom was still rolling her eyes at her ‘happy to be drinking daughter". Mom found an excuse to let the two dine alone. Mom was boiling because her daughter that held her hopes for a future had forgotten the man's name when she went to introduce him. Daughter knew there would be more hell the minute he left.

Before he left the daughter slipped him a piece of paper with her office number and extension and times to call.

With perfect manners from church; the walk through the zoo; through dinner he had a perfect exit about being back on the ship to prepare for duty. He left.

Hell broke loose again over her teenage daughter's drinking.

He called the next morning to the office and "Miss I'll Never Marry" was hooked. They were never apart again as long as there was a telephone and he had time off duty to join the happy gang of drinkers. The brothers loved him. Yes, they had in their way and put him though their "Sherlock Holmes" detective ways. He did not drink, so finally someone that could hang with them and make sure all got into cabs or on special occasions limousines safely.

The limo drivers worked for funeral homes in the day and kept the cars at night and earned a few quid by moonlighting.

Yes, the Marine and "Miss I'll Never Marry" did. Twice. The first by clergy and no license. She was too young. Mom wanted the wedding done her way. The couple let Mom have her way and kept their secret. All parties concerned would have been in trouble with the military, state and canonical synod.

His duty station changed. They moved to the first place he could feel comfortable calling home in another state. All he brought into the bride's home was himself and a sea bag.

                                                                If only.

He was Killed in Action in Vietnam. He was supposed to be in Japan.

After the notification of his death, it was wall to wall people. After the funeral the crowds thinned out. Within four months the telephone calls from so called friends stopped calling except from the original set of youngsters that grew up together.

The old friends finally started to marry and begin their own families. They thinned after a few years. The new friends at "their" house in the new state disappeared faster than ether.

The happy-go-lucky bride became a dedicated homemaker and her husband had tamed her into a church going lady. Ouch! She had married a Baptist minister. He did not tell her until after they were engaged. He gave her a chance to back out but he had hooked her for life. For him she gave up drinking. Smoking she refused to give up until she was ready. She did, but he never lived to see that.

He alerted her that his family was a strange lot. The bride did not fit the mold carved out by his Mom. His Mom had refused to attend the wedding. She refused to respond in any way to the bride's Mom during all the planning. But to see, "what he was marrying" she arrived at the bride's house at six the morning of the wedding.

The house was full of the bride's relatives and she was not happy there was no place for her to sleep for a few hours but on the fold out sofa.

She returned twenty days later to her home hundreds of miles away. She told his church she did not have her son's address. They found that lie because it manifested itself when the church members sent wedding presents to his ship. He had to lug huge boxes on two buses and a train. He stepped out of his clergy roll and called his Mom.

Now he is dead. His parents were also notified after his wife. His Mom called screaming, "He's dead because of you".

With all that had to be done, the widow was calling his Mom to keep her aware of the plans. Yes, the widow was taking her Love to his church to all his families: natural; clergy; college and many other groups.

The widow and her Dad flew into his hometown to meet the body coming in. The funeral home sent a car for transportation. The body was late.

Propriety called for the widow to stay with her mother-in-law. Her Dad stayed with cousins he'd not seen in years.

The body arrived with it's military escort. A nice Marine with orders. The widow's dreams for living happily ever after were sealed in glass. He was never to be touched again. All she wanted was to touch a button on his uniform. The escort had orders and the coffin was not to be opened or the body touched by anyone but the mortician if needed.

His sad Mother in every sense of the word had told people she had a mean daughter-in-law and she was keeping his body to herself. Those at the visitation would ask, "Are you his wife?" "Yes". "We were told he would not have his funeral here."

The funeral was not the widow's culture and a new experience. As the service was ending, their tradition was to follow the coffin out of the church. The widow refused to walk onto the church steps and chose to stand and watch the funeral director do her job. When the hearse door closed, the widow walked back into the church and to the social hall where all the deceased Marine's relatives were having a grand time serving and eating food.

The now deceased Marine's Godmother, fixed his widow a plate of something and took her by the arm to her beautiful home built on a bluff overlooking one of America's great rivers. Godmother ordered the bride to a bedroom, get out of those black clothes and take a nap.

Months before when the Reverend took his bride to his hometown and church, the Godmother and bride became good friends.

She obeyed. She did more crying than napping.

Later, Godmother explained that those people would have driven her crazy before the day was over. The widow was returned to the mother-in-law's apartment for a few hours sleep. The flight to the National Cemetery was the first plane out in the morning.

The funeral home limousine was on time. Dad was ready to fly. The cousins had delivered him so they could say good bye to their widowed cousin.

When all was done. The bride sat in their beautiful home and knew she could never live there without him.

There were no more friends. The couples' events did not permit single women. The true nature of some of the friends' husbands came out. They did not respect themselves or their families.

After a bit of time single men would ask the widow out to dinner and they thought that bought them a ticket to a trip between the sheets. The word got out, "She's cold".

It's been a while, the widow is still a widow. She can still outwork most people. The men in her life are platonic friends because the Lady has rules.

Those rules make her an "untouchable". If the man does not love himself enough to control himself; have a productive job and assets; be clean about his looks forget the Lady.

She is not supporting any man. Women keep your sniffing dog-husbands on a short leash. The widow is not to be feared. She's your friend because she sends your man scrambling on his first try.