Last Friday Hubby’s car was in the shop so I had to take him to work. Since I no longer commute to work, I seldom listen to the morning radio shows. I was listening to the morning banter and first they were talking to a young woman who wanted the listener’s advice because she had told her live-in boyfriend about a month or six weeks ago that she was pregnant and that it had been confirmed by blood tests at the doctors’ office when she wasn’t really pregnant. She said he had expressed to her about a year ago that he did NOT want children and she really did want kids so she was trying to “feel him out” as to how he’d react. Now she was wanting advice on how to get out of the lie gracefully without having to “fess up” about her disgraceful behavior.
I was so disgusted by her trying to convince everyone what a good person she was that I almost changed the station, which I am glad I didn’t because I would have missed one of the sweetest stories I have ever heard. I googled it after I got home and apparently it is a couple of years old, but that doesn’t make it any less sweet. It was just very timely to me to come on the heels of my mom and dad’s 60th anniversary.
In Ft. Worth, Texas a couple of years ago, apparently, a couple who had been married for over 75 years died literally within hours of each other. This is the article as I found it on the internet and it was verbatim what I heard on the radio:
12:45 PM CDT on Wednesday, April 2, 2008
By JIM DOUGLAS / WFAA-TV
A Fort Worth couple married for 75 years were buried Tuesday afternoon, after dying within five hours of one other.
JC Cox, 100, and his wife Josie, 96, were married on Christmas Day in 1932.
“She was telling me they went up to a pastor’s door and knocked on the door,” said Lesha Grimm, one of the couple’s granddaughters. “He didn’t marry them, so they went to another pastor’s house.”
They kept their wedding vows for 75 years, through the deaths of their own children, the lives of three new generations and the inevitable changes in each other.
“He was 120 pounds at most, ever,” Ms. Grimm said. “She was a fat granny.”
While Josie was described as a talker, JC said little.
“He couldn’t hear real well and he didn’t talk much anyway,” said Marla Williamson, another granddaughter. “That was his way of socializing with you was to share Dr Pepper.”
The fridge is still loaded with Dr Pepper. The little Fort Worth house unchanged.
“They stayed together the whole time,” Ms. Williamson said. “They slept in this bed.”
Mrs. Cox insisted on being JC’s sole caregiver, even up until the moment they entered a nursing home last month.
“She was still ironing his clothes three weeks ago,” Ms. Williamson said. “She was going to make sure, even though he never went anywhere, his clothes were going to be starched.”
The granddaughters said their intimacy was apparent until the moment they died. A few days ago, Mr. Cox took Mrs. Cox’s hand and he slipped away.
“Holding hands, and that’s how they died,” Ms. Williamson said. “Pa died holding onto Granny.”
Just five hours later, she let go too as her family whispered to her.
“Your children are waiting for you, and Pa is waiting for you,” Ms. Grimm said. “It’s OK. You can let go and we’ll all be OK together. And a minute later, she passed.”
Now, I ask you… is that not one of the sweetest stories you ever heard?