Donna Korando has lived in St. Louis for 34 years, but a part of her will always be the farm kid who followed the creek, rode a cow and had too many kittens, none of which were allowed inside the house. This blog will look at the country and city sides that work together and sometimes conflict.

65 years - March 7

 My parents have been married for 65 years.

That simple fact is a blog entry all by itself. 

Looking back, I marvel at their consistency and commitment as they went through all the trials, tribulations and triumphs of farming, devastating injury, being uprooted, losing a grown child and being forced to slow down because of age. Perhaps the greatest tribute to their parenting is that my childhood seems to have unfolded smoothly. Oh, sure, we had fundamental differences on such things as being quiet in church (a major battle of my formative years) and wearing a 2-piece swim suit (daring in 1964). But I can't remember them raising their voices at each other or tension in the house. 

We couldn't afford a lot of fancy things. That was fact, not a hardship. The first family vacation that extended beyond a 3-day-weekend (and those were rare) was a trip to the Smokey Mountains in the '60s. But farmers -- the farmers I knew -- just didn't take vacations. We got together with other families and played cards: Canasta and pinochle. Potlucks and dinners often had the men out back taking turns cranking the ice-cream maker. Sweetened popcorn was a treat we enjoyed; and the grandkids and great-grand-daughter enjoy today.

They had to have experienced tension when a drought was so bad that Mom had to go to work ( she didn't quit for 50 years). And I did know that life would change after Dad's hand was mangled in a corn chopper. Selling the cattle, moving into Chester were not things I welcomed. But the love that Mom and Dad surrounded us with meant that all of us knew  we were safe, we would adjust, we would be fine.

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad. 

After the party -- March 8

Pat-on-the-back time: the party for the parents went well. The rule for success is easy: Let the couple decide what they want. Then follow orders -- and make certain some sort of suprise is included.

The 25th, 50th and 60th anniversaries were all big deals. The kids threw a party for the 25th -- yes, grandma, we know we can't have a band because it's in Lent -- in the same church hall where their wedding reception had been held. The party itself was a surprise.

The parents planned their own 50th -- and the orchestra they hired so everyone could dance was very good. The surprise: Right before the cake cutting, the five grandkids appeared wearing T-shirts bearing a picture of the happy couple taken when they were dating, and handed out napkins with the same image.

The 60th was a collaboration. They wanted an open house in the church hall, not the same one this time. They provided the guest list. The kids organized, created invitations and decorated. The surprise: Grandson and sister-in-law came in from Wisconsin, even though they had said they couldn't make it.

The 65th was low key all around: just immediate family. Those on the coasts or in the still-frozen north didn't fly in. Everyone had been together for Christmas.  After eating out, those who could stick around played cards.  The surprise: A money tree, with 65 crisp new bills pinned to a form; and two cakes: a six made out of angel food (his favorite) a five made out of chocolate (her favorite). The kids have finally reached the age that they understand the parents saying they don't need any "things."  Relaxing with family can be enough.

March 11 – Spring?

The cat is in the bedroom window trying to figure out how to get to the birds that are chirping merrily right outside. I’m not a birder and can’t identify anything but an owl or a crow by its sound. But a friend says she has heard robins.

Can we trust the promise of warmth as we approach mid March? 

Not yet. 

I join the cat to see if I can find a robin – at least I know what they look like. But instead of a herald of spring, I notice the side of the yard that gets no sun. SNOW – white, untouched snow. 

It will disappear today, but its message has been delivered: Enjoy the sun and the warmth even more because they remain a promise, not to be taken for granted.

Last update: 19-03-2008 12:22

Users' Comments (0)

Add your comment