She waited for him to come back home for months on end. There were days she stood by the mailbox hoping the carrier would bring a letter. Just anything letting her know he was still alive. She mailed cookies and cards hoping they reached him somewhere in a war zone thousands of miles away.

The war ended and and he finally returned home in October of 1945. Seventy-five years ago today they were married in the Methodist Church’s parsonage in Louisville, Mississippi. Before they left for their honeymoon they stopped by the farmhouse so Daddy could wind a clock that stood against the north wall in the living room. It was a grandmother’s clock he’d shipped home during the war. When asked how long they’d be gone he told them he’d be back when it was time to wind the clock. A week later just before the clock’s pendulum was about to come to a stop they walked through the front door.

Today that old clock stands in my oldest brother’s home in Jackson, still marking time.

Though the clock is still ticking, my parents have been gone for decades. But just like that old clock that marks time, they left a mark, too. A huge one.

I’m glad Mother waited.

Happy anniversary. You are not forgotten.

_______________
Rick Algood
December 4, 2020