Feb. 21, 1945
My dearest Ardell,
Honey I miss you more every day. But it looks like this is it. Tomorrow morning we go aboard our ship, our destination is still unknown. I know this means we are getting farther apart but it’s for sure they cannot keep us apart forever, honey. I’ll love you more and more all the time and will never quit loving you. Someday we’ll both lay side by side and the rest of the world will go by, but we’ll be in our second heaven – because the most wonderful woman in the world is waiting for me. You know, honey, that means a lot to a guy. Love & kisses, Bob
My parents, Ardell and Bob Roth, were married for almost 72 years.
I’m pretty familiar with the middle and end of my mom and dad’s story. But of course, kids generally know little about the beginning of that story – the mysterious void before mortgage payments, babies and family vacations.
After my parents passed away and we were cleaning out their home, however, I discovered a treasure trove, neatly bound in crisp pink ribbon: Hundreds of letters my dad had written to mom while they were both serving in the Navy, dad stationed in the South Pacific during the final year of World War II – mom stationed in Idaho.
Dated between February and October of 1945, I’ve finally read them all – letters written when my sister, brothers and I were all but a twinkle in my dad’s eye … when two young lovers stood poised on the cusp of a life.
Feb. 25, 1945 – at sea
My dearest,
All I can see right now is blue, everywhere. Boy, honey, it’s really lonesome out here without you. I cross my fingers all the time and wait for the day we can be together again. I didn’t think there was a woman in the country that would make me think of her, day in and day out, and want to be with her, but I have to admit I was wrong … All my love, all my life …
March 19, 1945 – 21:00 (stationed in New Caledonia in the South Pacific)
In the daytime I have a busy daily routine, so it isn’t so bad, but when evening starts coming on I get an extra empty feeling down inside me. So I picture different times, times when you’re in your uniform, all slicked up, and when you’re in that slim, pretty, blue and white nightgown, you were really beautiful, honey …
My parents were married on Nov. 25, 1944, a mere three months after their first date. They were both serving in the Navy that summer, stationed in Seattle, Washington, when my dad – whose job was an electrician – climbed up a ladder to fix some ceiling wires in barracks reserved for newly arriving Waves … just as my mom ducked into the same building to lift her skirt and adjust her garter. Legend goes that my father looked down in shock and amazement, whistled and called her quite the babe, as my mother looked up aghast and wouldn’t speak to him for weeks.
She finally relented to “one date and only one.” Then caved for a second date that kicked off with a call from dad who was in jail for brawling (claiming he had defended a friend). Three months later they were married – but only after their commanding officer promised that dad would not be leaving anytime soon. He shipped out two months later.
May 21, 1945 – 20:30
Honey, you little bundle of sunshine. Those couple months of married life were the most wonderful ones I have ever had. I always wondered how a fellow could tell when he’s in love. But I guess it just gets in your blood and runs all over you and boy honey my blood is pure you. The day is coming when we’ll just be in a daze, two happy people, too much in love to ever say good-bye again …
True confession, I have never been fond of Valentine’s Day, that special time when Hallmark and the floral industry strong-arm people into proving their adoration for one another.
But I do believe in love, and there’s something outrageously audacious about a love that perseveres through more than seven decades of valentines. There’s also something outrageously audacious about peering into your own mom and dad’s love story – squirming just a bit at their unguarded longing – while also feeling an odd sense of joy that, once upon a time, your parents felt such unbridled passion.
June 16, 1945 – 19:00
Dearest Ardell,
After I went to bed last night I lay thinking of those nights we had together, to have you lay there beside me when we would talk and talk, and after a fashion go off into a sweet sleep. And by the way, don’t go buying any twin beds. Someone has to keep those toes of yours warm and that guy is going to be me, honey … I’ll be dreaming of you …
July 2, 1945 – 20:00
Let’s see, what should we imagine doing this evening. How about just taking a drive along some pretty highway and enjoying the scenery and cool breeze, I think that would be just the thing with you sitting very close at my side and the radio playing and just riding along with no one to bother us…
My parents did not have an easy marriage. Mom was a realist and a steadfast introvert who colored between the lines and drove cautiously between the lanes. Dad was a romantic and a blazing extrovert who attempted to charm many a police officer out of a traffic ticket. They withstood countless stone-cold arguments as they both stubbornly refused to give. They raised four children amidst years of change and churn, road trips, tight budgets, joy and loss. They buried a son. And both of them almost walked away from the marriage, several times.
But by god, they endured.
Sept. 2, 1945 – 12:00
Dearest Ardell.
Today is really a great day, I suppose we’ll never see another one like it as long as we live. The war is over for sure. And the day is coming and is not too far off that our dreams will be fulfilled. I’m thinking of you now as they are playing “Just Close Your Eyes” and I would give a few months’ pay just to close my eyes and get a honest-to-god kiss. Now that would be cream and sugar … Tonight yours and yours alone …
My mom died at 98 after she took a nasty fall, their marriage just shy of a 72nd anniversary. My dad was starting to disappear into dementia at the time and spent the weeks after mom’s death ceaselessly and obstinately searching for her. He passed away a couple months later.
A dear friend reflected: “You know, it took a little time, but I believe your dad finally figured out where your mom had gone, and nothing on earth was going to stop him from following her.”
Oct. 28, 1945 – 21:00 (final letter)
It’s another lonely Sunday night here, gosh, I miss you. But honey, do you realize maybe inside the next four weeks we won’t be writing anymore? We are packing up and getting ready to move out – and it will be the greatest day of all the days when we meet again. Can you picture us, honey, will you remember me or will we have to get acquainted all over again? I’m only waiting for the day I can look at you, take you in my arms and squeeze you until it hurts and smother you with kisses. With all my love …
My dad was home by Christmas. And their story began.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
I love this! Your parents married the same year as mine; mine wed in July of that year. Unfortunately,They did not have as many years together as yours. My mother was without her husband 25 years. He passed at age 79 in 1991 and she at 95 in 2016. Thanks for sharing this wonderful story. Veronica
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