Shall We Get Married?






Nineteen-sixty-six began excitedly.  Trevor and Freda were expecting their first baby in 
July.  I was to have two weeks' holiday with Mildred and Bill in March.  Jack and I were 
becoming accustomed to sharing the joys of others, and were grateful for their 
involvement.  Life seemed good all round.

Even so, we were completely innocent of the fact that this year would be of great 
personal importance to us.

My own family life was just as interesting.  Michael and David were both married, and 
Gerard was attending a Catholic Junior School.  Two extra members of the household 
were Eileen and Joey, whom Mum had fostered from the ages of five and three 
respectively.  The house was always a hive of activity after school, with homework, 
piano lessons, dancing, cub scouts.  I happily shared in the children's excitement, and 
tried sympathetically to sort out their little problems whenever necessary.  I enjoyed it all, 
really.

My mother was well. Mercifully, but my father still attended to most of my needs.  We 
had changed our vehicle for the third time, and now had an ex-ambulance Bedford.  
There had been no harmonica trips since Sheila died, but we all went out together 
occasionally, and Jack  would often spend a Sunday at home with us.  Eleven years had 
passed since we first met.

We went to Gorleston Holiday Camp as usual in September.  We eagerly anticipated our 
whole week of togetherness, though bracing ourselves for the inevitable painful parting 
at the end of it. For me, being with Jack quite simply completed my entire world.  
Everything seemed then to fall into its rightful place.  Jack admitted to enjoying the same 
secure comforting feelings.  But we reconciled ourselves at this level.

We now knew all the secluded spots in the camp which were accessible by wheelchair!  
We were familiar with the routine and planned our days accordingly.  But there were no 
midnight jaunts for us now. Our health was fairly good at this time, and we saw the 
wisdom in doing our best to keep it that way.

Certainly, at the start of this particular holiday there was no inkling of the plans we were 
to embark on.  But a trivial incident seemed to ignite us into action.

Alex, a disabled friend whom we met only annually, came upon us one sunny afternoon 
as we sat in our now familiar close position. 

"Hello, you two.  You know, it's very embarrassing.  Hardly dare turn a corner," he said in 
his amusing Yorkshire accent.

"When are you getting married?"

We joked back, "When we can afford it."

"Only cost 7/6d for a licence," came the cheeky rejoinder.

Alex, several years our senior, was happily married to a nursing sister.  His dependency 
on a wheelchair had not deterred him from living life to the full.  His philosophy tended to 
be sound, and many were enlightened by his little words of wisdom.  His latest remark 
was to have a big influence on us.

We sat by the swimming pool until the air turned chilly.  Most people, we guessed, were 
changing in readiness for the evening meal.  We were alone.  We watched a thousand 
reflections dancing on the blue water, as the sun sank in the sky.

"Why don't we get married, Jack?"

There was silence for a moment.  Jack never answers quickly at any time!  He stroked 
my hand thoughtfully.  "Yes, well, I suppose there's nothing to stop us doing that much."

Again there was silence.  Then I suddenly realised the seriousness of my question.

"What will our parents say?"

"What will everyone else say?"  Jack added.

"I don't care what other people think'" I said with more conviction, "It would just be nice to 
have our relationship recognised, don't you think?"

Jack's eyes looked dreamy, as he said: "well, at least we could sleep together when on 
holiday!"

It was as simple as that.  There was no romantic proposal.  We were well aware of our 
mutual feelings.  It seemed a small step to take, with little drama attached.  After all, we 
were only planning a wedding ceremony – not a lifetime together.  Much as we would 
have liked to do the whole thing properly, it seemed beyond our comprehension.

For the rest of the week, we discussed our new exciting idea at every opportunity.  With 
my Catholic background we knew it had to be a Church wedding.  But it would just be a 
small affair, with our family and close friends.  My mother must be the first to know, and I 
planned how to  break the news, whilst reassuring her that she would not be financially 
implicated in the arrangements.  It all seemed straight forward, and our confidence was 
sent soaring.  I liked the light of anticipation in Jack's eyes as they met mine across the 
table, or during the evening get-togethers.  I could not wait to make my important 
declaration as soon as I got home.  Then we would be free to inform everyone else.

But once home, my courage left me!  Without Jack's presence, the strength of my own 
conviction deserted me completely.  Suddenly, I thought how ridiculous it would all 
appear.  We would be the talk of the neighbourhood.  Other handicapped couples had 
become engaged before, only to be treated with amused sympathy.

"Well if they like to pretend, there's no harm in it, really."

How could I now explain the depth and sincerity of our feelings?  How could I possibly 
describe the meaning behind our decision?  So far, we had escaped the need for any 
such explanation, but now we would be leaving ourselves wide open to the same 
patronising comments.  I searched for reasons to quell the expected avalanche of 
criticism.

Visiting Jack later that week, I shamefully admitted my sudden loss of nerve when it 
came to telling my mother about our wedding plans.  He was understanding as always.  
On reflection, we then decided that a big announcement was not appropriate.  Instead, 
we would proceed in a somewhat more discreet manner.

"Let's become engaged first, and name the day later on," suggested Jack.  "This will 
allow time for people to get accustomed to the new situation.  I can buy you an 
engagement ring for Christmas."

I readily concurred.

We decided to purchase the ring through a mail-order firm, to save getting ourselves 
involved in shopping expeditions which could not be as private as we wanted.  I chose a 
fairly inexpensive ring which had a single zircon set in a white gold band.  It was 
beautiful to me.

With each week approaching Christmas, I braced myself to speak to Mother, but 
courage always failed me at the last minute.  Time was running out.  I simply had to get 
the news out soon.  I was not going back on my word, that was for certain.

Then one day, it slipped out so easily that I wondered what all my fears were for.

"Guess what Jack's buying me for Christmas, Mum?"

There was a pause while she pondered.

"An engagement ring, " I said softly, to conceal any embarrassment.

"Oh, that's nice, " Mother replied, almost blankly.

I knew that this was not enough, and I wanted her to grasp the full implication.  Taking a 
deep breath, I persisted.  "I do mean an engagement ring, Mum.  It's a promise to marry, 
you know.  We hope to arrange it for next year."

She still seemed unperturbed, saying "Well, you know what you want to do."

The truth was out.  There were no questions and no ridicule.  But this was only the 
beginning.  The relief had an intoxicating effect on me.  I prattled on whilst the going was 
good, assuring Mother that no expense would be incurred for her and Dad.  The 
wedding would not appear to make any difference to anyone else, but as I told her, it 
was important to Jack and me.  To my complete surprise, Mum seemed quite placid 
about the whole thing.

Jack would be pleased that my mother was now in possession of the facts as they stood, 
anyway.  He had already resolved to write to my parents, if I could not bring myself to tell 
them!

When hearing the news, many people failed completely to understand.

"Didn't realise you felt that way about each other."

"What's the point?" said others.  "How will you feel married?"

We only smiled away such reactions, even though we felt hurt.

Nevertheless, we did have our supporters.  Trevor and Freda were pleased for us, and 
offered all their help.  "About time, too," said Alec simply, though it spoke volumes for 
him.  Mildred and Bill remarked that they wondered why we had not done it before.  
That, too, was a warm response.
Already we felt united. We could take all the queries.  The decision to marry, without any 
obvious changes in our circumstances, would appear futile.  We appreciated that.  But 
nothing would deter us now.  Our minds were made up.

Gradually, as the news spread everyone got used to the fact that Jack and Margaret 
were getting married.  Furthermore the date had been fixed for Saturday July 8th 1967, to 
coincide with Jack's birthday.