Fifty years.

Fifty years of love.

Fifty years of love, hard work, and devotion.

Fifty years of love, hard work, and devotion are being celebrated this weekend at the Martin Hotel. We invite you to join us on May 6th to honor the joyous union of Evelyn and George Johnson. Please RSVP as soon as possible.

"Does that sound right to you George?" Evelyn asked as she sat at the computer, squinting at the keyboard as she hunted for the proper letters.

George answered without moving his head away from the baseball game, "Sure, honey," his voice trailing off as the batter ran to first.

As March drew to a close, Evelyn had started hinting at how momentous their fiftieth anniversary would be. She continued to drop hints that George ignored until he overheard Evelyn talking on the phone with her friend Marge about how wonderful a renewal of vows ceremony would be. That night at dinner, George brought up the conversation he had eavesdropped on. Evelyn was elated. She immediately began to make plans. The wedding cake was ordered, the church booked, and she had purchased a dress to wear. All that remained was to invite the guests.
The Day of the Renewal


"Evelyn, have you seen my tie? I swear I put it down on the back of the chair, but it isn't there anymore!" George called from inside his closet.

"It's on the bed, right where you left it." Evelyn responded from the kitchen where she was sifting through pictures from their wedding. In the photo, her dress was George’s mothers dress because they had used the little money they had saved to buy a small house. Her hair was dark black and shiny, done in a delicate knot by her sister. Her cheeks were rosy, not just from the blush but from the youthful excitement of getting married. George looked like a teenager. His brown-red hair, freckles, and blue eyes were what caught her eye in the first place. H was wearing a rented tuxedo that was too snug around his broad shoulders that he had built up working on the fixer-upper they planned to live in. She smiled over at George. His salt and pepper hair and papery skin were so different now. Fifty years previous, Evelyn never had guessed that she would in love with someone she would have considered an old man.

Creeping up behind her, George wrapped his arms around Evelyn’s shoulders. He bent down, kissing her softly on the cheek, “What would I do without you,” he whispered.

Smiling, Evelyn pulled away. "It is bad luck to kiss the bride the day of the wedding," she teased. "I need to go get dressed. I told Marge that I would meet her at the church to make sure the flowers were right and to finish up any last minute touches. Remember, one of the kids will come and pick you up around four thirty."

They embraced and George watched Evelyn drive their large, late-model sedan out of the driveway and down the street.
5pm in the Church

Evelyn felt as though she couldn't contain her excitement. They had decided to use their original vows and she felt as though she was a young bride again.

Kevin, their son, ran up to Evelyn. "Where is your father, isn't he supposed to be with you and your sister?" She asked Kevin sharply.

“How is the prep going? The flowers look beautiful…” Kevin began awkwardly. When Evelyn looked at him oddly and repeated her question, he sighed then started, "Kim and I went to pick up dad. He wouldn't answer the door. So we got the spare key from the flowerpot and just walked in. Dad was lying on the bathroom floor, unconscious," Kevin took a deep breath, tears streaming down his face, then continued, "Kim called 911 and an ambulance came." Evelyn collapsed onto the church pew, ashen. "Is he okay?"

"They tried to resuscitate him, but they declared him dead before he was loaded into the ambulance. I'm so, so sorry."

Evelyn shook uncontrollably. Suddenly, her pure white hair, pale skin, even her peach dress seemed to fade. She looked so frail that a faint breeze would knock her over. As the word spread around the room, everyone struggled to comfort her. Evelyn and Kevin rushed to the hospital. The crowd left in a sorrowful silence. All that remained to remember what should have been was an uneaten wedding cake.