In the good old days, when Helen and I were in our sixtys we used to go camping in our RV with a group of friends. I remember one time in particular. We were gathered around the campfire relaxing and enjoying the beautifull evening. Not much conversation so Max Pence came up with an idea. He sugessted that each of us tell the story of when we first realized that the one who later became our life long partner cared for us.
Max started it off, telling about the time he first realized that Glenis cared for him as much as he cared for her. Then each of us in the circle told our stories and what wonderfull love stories they were. Sometimes very emotional, especially when my Helen told her story. After hearing these very personal stories it seemed like our group shared a closness as never befor.
Thinking about it, I believe it was the happiest time in my life when I realized that Helen loved me as much as I loved her.
Here at thealzheimerspous.com we have all suffered so much and we come here to share our misery. Why don't we share the happiest time of our life? After reading the sad stories here I already feel very close to each of you and I would love to here your happy story.
OK...I'll start it off...Now don't be bashfull. I want to hear your story.
The year was 1945. Still in the army. Just back from overseas. Stationed at Camp Pindale, Fresno. I was 23 years old and had never really had a girlfriend. I had always been kind of bashfull around girls. My army buddie, Don Cook, had made arrangements for me to meet his girlfriend's sister.
On meeting her, I was immediatly overwhelemed by her exuberance and beauty.She was so cheerfull and happy and best of all she seemed to like me. But I knew she was very popular and had several boyfriends. The next day, Don asked me when I was going to see her again and I told him I didn't know. Well, Don called me a dummy and gave me a little lecture about dating girls, but he set up another date and told me from now on, you're on your own. So I got another chance and I was in heaven. From then on, Helen was on my mind constantly. I was so happy.
After the third date, something terrible ended it all. I awoke at the army base with a high fever and a pain in my right knee. I knew immediatly that it was a reoccurance of osteomylitis which had plagged me several times since my high school days. I also knew, from my previous experiences with it, that I would be confined to a hospital for many months, being treated with drugs, befor I would be curred. And worst of all, I knew that I would never see Helen again.
They put me in a place called the infirmary, to be transfered to the hospital the next day. I had told Don to give Helen the bad news. The pain in my leg, together with the high fevor was bad, but the pain in my heart over losing Helen was all I could think about.
It was about six o'clock in the evening and I was just lying there in the infirmary, feeling so bad, when this soldier came to my bed and asked if I was Sgt.Streit. He told me that he worked at the base message center, and there was a telephone operator at the Fresno Switchbaord who made him promise to hand deliver this little note to a Sgt. Streit at the base infirmary. He handed me the little note and said "Here it is. I had to walk all the way down here from headquarters, but I kept my promise".
I remembered then that Helen did work for the telephone co. as a switchboard operator, and as I read the little note, the tears came to my eyes..... They still do.....
That little note changed my life forever, and I have kept it close to me all these years. This is what it read. "Miss you very much. Hope you get well soon. My fingers are crossed for you. With all my love Helen"
That was it.....The happiest time of my life....GeorgieBoy...
Edit - what an incredible idea and a truly beautiful story George. I remember one of us and I wish I could remember who it was, told this story of meeting in Holland or somewhere and it was another beautiful story of how life unfolds.
Ok, here goes. Lloyd and I first met when I was 15 and he was 16. We actually went to the county fair together. Then we drifted and reunited again 29 years later. I had been through a not-so-good marriage with an alcoholic VietNam combat vet who was still waging his own war. I was a manager of a store at the time and my cashier had some diapers for me that her baby was allergic to. I went to pick them up and Lloyd was there visiting her brother who was his good friend. When he realized I had grandchildren, he asked "How old are you???" Taboo #1 - age. Then he asked if I would like to go out on his boat with him. I said I would if he wanted, but I really was my own best company. Then he proceeded to tell me he could use a good sturdy anchor (referring to me). Taboo #2 - weight. I proceeded to tell him my priorities : 1. Job, 2. Grandkids, 3. Kids and I was up there somewhere...so if he didn't mind being 4th or 5th, we were good. Told him the rules were no lying, no cheating, and no hitting. We were together ever since. About a month after we started seeing each other, he gave me a ride to the grocery. When he pulled up in front of my apartment, he blurted out "I love you." And I said "Excuse me." He said "Sorry." And I told him I liked what he said first better. I still hadn't made the connection. Then one day, his mom and I were looking at pictures from his teenage years and I recognized who he was. I have to say I loved him from the first date...no, actually when I saw him at the cashier's house. He walked me to my car, fixed my problem door, and politely shook my hand. That did it for me. When he was dxd, I promised we would tough it out to the end, that he would be at home with me, and that I would never leave him. I loved him to the moon and back. He passed away on Feb. 18 of this year and I kept all my promises. While I miss him horribly, I know in my heart that Alzheimer's is no way to live so I am glad he is at peace.
I was rather inept at participating in the dating scene, so after college I decided to change my focus. I’d cut out the stress of trying to land dates and work on making a good life on my own, going out socially when the opportunity arose. If someone special became a part of my life that’d be great, but if not, I’d still be fine. February 10, 1974, around noon I received a call. A friend from the Catholic Singles Club we belonged to wanted to know if she could bring her brother along to the Afternoon Bowling we’d scheduled. I told her, ”If he’s Catholic and single, bring him along.” She did. We all bowled and chatted and later went for coffee. Ron followed me home, and we talked about everything under the sun. The Merchant Marines, my magazine sales job; you name it. He left, with a promise to call. I went to bed; got up the next morning and went to work. He was parked in front of my apartment when I got home. I fed my cats and we had dinner, all the time continuing the conversation we’d been having the day before. I’d picked up on his Learning Disabilities, but didn’t consider them a significant issue—he had ways around many of them. We talked about that and about my disability. We covered all the things a couple discusses in months of courtship, in just those hours together. We agreed to get together the next day after I got out of work. In mid-afternoon while working, the thought flashed through my head—“What if he asks you to marry him?” On its tail was the solid statement “You’ll say ,’Yes.”” It was a solid, certain, factual thought. I finished work, got home and he was there. Again we picked up our conversation, as though there’d been no interruption. Around mid-evening our conversation shifted, and the next thing I knew, he’d slipped off the couch onto his knee beside me and proposed. I said yes. When he proposed he was shaking like a leaf, and at my answer there was the hint of tears in his eyes, he was so afraid I’d say, “No.” It was February 12, 1974. We weren’t kids just out of school, he was 31 and I was 26, but we caught flack just the same. There was a huge gap between our education levels—my Masters and he hadn’t completed elementary school. Things I couldn’t physically do—how could I keep up with him? We saw it as being a team—we each had strengths the other didn’t, but together we could do it all. No one thought we had anything in common. They were wrong. We married August 31, 1974. I did the paperwork and the bills. He did the car care, the yard work, and the vacuuming/. I helped him build tables and storage containers and shelves—I was good at measuring and holding wood while he cut it. He taught me to shoot a 22 and took me small game hunting. He took me ice fishing once—I caught the biggest fish of the night on a dead minnow.—Guys don’t like to be shown up—even if it was beginners luck. (lol) We camped—rustic camping. Have you ever shot a Black Powder rifle—I have. Our daughter is all grown up, through college and married. Ron developed a mental Illness in 1988 and then was Dxd with VaD in 2006. My handicap has slowly progressed. He never saw my disability as an obstacle. I never saw his Learning Disabilities as one either, and as for the Mental Illness and VaD? You don’t throw away a family member because they get sick or hurt. I lost Ron last July, just weeks before our 38th anniversary. In 1974, no one saw us making it work. Fooled them, didn’t we?
I guess I knew Frances for most of my life -- she was the older sister of one of my classmates (and also first cousin to a couple of others -- that's the way things worked in our small MS town). Despite being two years older, we shared one Latin class when she was a senior and I a sophomore, and I thought she looked pretty smart and sophisticated, sitting on the back row in designer eyeglasses and chewing gum, but I doubt that I ever spoke to her. And as for her being sophisticated, well the truth is that she was a country girl whose family didn't even have indoor plumbing at that time.
I was "bad in love with" a sweetheart during my last two years of high school and fully expected to marry her at some indefinite future time, but she sent me a "Dear John" letter while I was in Navy boot camp and broke my young heart. By the time I had finished high school and a two year stint in the Navy, Frances had completed two years schooling at a small Baptist junior college there in town (and dated a couple of would-be preachers) and was working as a secretary in the local bank. My brother and I had combined our mustering out pay from the Navy to buy a used 1940 Plymouth and had a riotous summer dating different girls and partying at out-of-town juke joints several nights a week. I ended up sort of serious about a divorced redhead probably four years older than I, and enrolled in Mississippi State where she was already a student. She had to be on the campus several weeks before me, so being at loose ends for a date, I accepted the suggestion of a friend with whom I had been double dating some to try to get me a date with one of his cousins. Our first try was with one of my former classmates, a beautiful, quiet girl with Elizabeth Taylor sort of beauty and also one of Frances's first cousins. Country folks didn't have telephones, so mid-afternoon we drove out to this cousin's house and she couldn't go, so we went to Plan B, which was to try another of his cousins -- Frances. We drove to her house and found her with her hair rolled up and covered by a kerchief while doing housework, but she was agreeable to a date and went upstairs for a few minutes to change clothes and pretty herself up a little, and off we went on our first date -- to one of those "juke joints" where I introduced her to her first alcoholic drink -- a Tom Collins if I remember correctly. We seemed to hit it off right away, and dated several more times before I had to be on campus. I guess we must have been "going steady", because I made the 150 mile drive home every weekend so we could date, and at mid-term I transferred to a different college to reduce the drive time. After the spring term of college ended, I found a part time summer job as a radio repairman there at home so we could date every night, it seems like. I never really proposed -- I guess we just started talking about being married and what we'd do later, and she encouraged me to apply to Georgia Tech and get more serious about my schooling, with her at my side. A garden wedding at her home on 3 September 1949 marked the start of 60 years of married bliss, even including those awful Alzheimer's years. And she never knew that she was "Plan B"!
There is a section on the home page on the left side titled "Love Stories from our Members". It has not had any additions in a long time. If no one has any objection, I am going to add these stories to that section. Please, please, keep them coming. We love to read them.
I was on vacation from school with my parents. We went to a resort in the Poconos-where my parents had first met. I met a young man on army leave. He had worked in the same resort while in college. That night I told my parents that Bill was the person who I would marry.
In February 1976, some close friends set up a dinner at their home so Steve and I could meet. I knew he'd be there, but he thought he was coming over to just have dinner and do their taxes. Consequently, I thought he was a bit aloof towards me (he was just surprised) and at the end of the evening, he asked if he could walk me to my car. On the walk, he asked if he could call me--I responded yes. He said something like "Well, it's tax season and I probably won't have any time until after April 15." I knew he was a CPA, but I thought, wow, what a brush-off. Two nights later he called me for a date the following week. During that first date (dinner and dancing) we hit the dance floor and I still remember the first slow dance and the feeling I had being in his arms for the first time. I said to myself "This is the man I am going to marry." I knew about his Dad's EOAD from the start--it made no difference to me that Steve might also have it someday. I have never regretted my decision for one second--even with all the heartbreak of AD--he is my soulmate and the love of my life.
I was in love with love and married right out of high school into a physical/mental abusive marriage. I didn't believe in divorce and stuck it out for nearly 10 years. I swore off men and planned on staying single for the rest of my life. I changed jobs and several of my co-workers went to the local watering hole on payday Fridays. I was asked to join them and declined several times, but changed my mind one Friday in November 1975 and went.
A co-worker introduced me to his roommate Claude. There was an immediate connection between us and we spent the rest of the evening talking. He called me a couple of days later and that was the beginning of nearly 39 years together. He was a little older than me, a "confirmed bachelor", but he took on raising my two kids like they were his own. We had our ups and down like most marriages, but we both agreed we found our soulmates.
We were 10 years old in grammar school. At recess the kids used to taunt me, ‘He loves you, he loves you, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.’ It had no effect on me. I was interested in climbing trees, hanging by my knees from the monkey bar, swinging on the May pole. Once a week we lined up by height to square dance, we might be partners or not, depending on who was absent. If he couldn’t dance with me, he’d sit out alone. One Christmas he came to my house—how did he know where I lived?—and gave me the most awful-looking red stone broach, something an old lady might wear. I said ‘thanks’ and don’t know whatever happened to it. The other boys had arranged for him to get my name at the gift drawing. He offered me his bike to ride—on and on—all to no avail, I had no feelings about him.
We went on to junior high, then high school, there were lots of boys. I’d see him around, remembered him from grammar school, but nothing else. A friend asked me to invite him to a party, she was too shy, so I stopped him one day in the hall and – good grief! when did he get so tall? curly chest hair was peeking out above his clean white shirt – something hit me hard in the stomach, ‘pay attention, this is important!’ I had no idea if he still ‘loved’ me. I didn’t do anything about it, I had asked him for another girl.
I was surprised when he asked me to the Senior Prom. I said ‘yes’ without any enthusiasm. Afterwards, in the car, he leaned over and kissed me at a stop sign, I melted. By the time he brought me home I knew I’d spend my life with him. All those years he waited for me to grow up. He had lint in his pockets, worked as a mechanic at the local garage. I married him because I wanted—had to be--with him 24/7 and that was the only way. Today we might just live together.
We were married 53 years when he died ten years ago. Today I see one of his buddies from school, it’s a great relationship, I feel lucky. But, that’s OK, my sweet 'little boy' handsome husband is once more waiting for me. He’s done it before and knows where I'll finally land. When the time comes, we’ll be together again, and this time it will be forever.
Yes....this is just wonderful....I come back several times a day to see who has posted a story. Joan...like you said you want to put these with your other Member Love Stories...they will be great in your book.
I'm glad you suggested this Thread. It's good, I think, for us to take a minute to remember "that moment", especially now when it's in the past and easily lost in the drama of our cuirrent days. All of us had dreams back then and none of us had a clue how our lives would actually turn out.
I turned around in my seat at lunch in first grade to see what the boy behind me had for lunch. He had fried chicken and a biscuit. I guess that was impressive because that is the first time I remember him. We played on the swings at recess together. Our families had attended the same church and he was there before we started school but I don't remember that. Our families moved to different towns when we were in 3rd grade. Both our father's worked in the oil fields and they were closing operation at that time. We lived about 15 miles apart the next years. We went on a date when we were in high school but I was not impressed with him. After we graduated we both moved to Tulsa. He found out where I was working and had his sister get the number so he could call me. He asked for a date but I was writing to a guy in the Air Force that I had dated so I really wasn't too interested. He called again to ask if I would like a ride to the town where I was going to see my mother. I accepted because it was better than the Greyhound bus. He came to get me on Sunday afternoon for the return trip and something that day just told me that he was a special guy. He never gave up wanting to take me out. We were married three months later. The AF guy was probably relieved when I wrote him. I met him when he came home that summer and gave his ring back. To this day I don't know what became of him or what he did with his life. I just know I made the right decision and we had over 60 years. Only the last three were tough. He was truly my soul mate.
I might have seen her in grade 7. They were renovating my public school and we marched in groups over to hers for classes. She was in my sister's class in grade 10. I first noticed her at a united appeal car wash we were doing in that year. Thought nothing of her. We went on a double date together in grade 12 except we weren't with each other. I thought she was really quiet. The first words she ever said to me were "you dance like a spaniard". Nice.
Then my first love dumped me and became prom queen and in the grade 13 commons room Steve Gow said "why don't you take Dianne Fellows. She a nice girl." And for the first time I looked at her but I would never ask someone I don't know to the prom just because both of us were available. But someone must have said something to her too and shortly after on Valentine's day 1969, we found each other in the hall and exchanged valentines. Her's said "you score high with me" because I was on the basketball team I guess, and mine said "you're just my speed".
We went to the 1968 Zifferelli film Romeo and Juliet which was still running and I asked her out the next weekend and I forget where we went; but, I knew right there she was the one. I told her I was going to marry her and she gave me a look like "oh no a weird one" and I remember exactly what went through my mind "ixnay on the arrymay". We became inseperable very quickly. I gave her a pearl/diamond friendship ring on the back stairs of the school and I still remember her eyes (I worked part time). They were on me not the ring.
Dianne is the first thing in my life I wanted seriously. I didn't mention marriage again until October 10 of that same year. We were on the shores of lake ontario laying on a park bench literally watching the full moon and I asked her to marry me knowing what she'd say and she happily agreed.
My father always liked Dianne from the first second. My mother was upset. Her parents when I went over to formally ask for her hand (HA!) became catatonic and went pasty white (their natural colour since Dianne is a Celt complete with red hair). I remember thinking this wasn't going well because the silence and lack of breathing stretched out. "When?" her father croaked finally. "Maybe after college." we both said because we hadn't really set a date. "So you're not pregnant?" her mother asked daring to hope.
We talked about children once in 40 years. We were at the boat show looking at sail boats in our very early 30's and we realized we'd never talked about it. So we sat in an empty theatre area for a half hour and talked and thirty minutes later we agreed that neither of us was enthusiastic so that wasn't a good reason and if it happened it happened. It never came up again and despite a number of times we waited for her period - it never did happen.
She was my private ocean of calm and I was her instigator of adventure. I read to her for a thousand hours. I never bought her things on her birthday or at christmas. I put diamond rings under her pillow and gold necklaces in her boots. We sat in the car driving everywhere for hours without talking. Or talked for hours without stopping.
In all the glorious times we had together neither of us ever took success or failure seriously. Those were things that happened and there wasn't any more importance in them. But the see through corningware pots we got from Aunt May on our wedding were important because we got them from Aunt May and the christmas tree (the poor beast is still up) was covered with ornaments she'd collected all her life and she could tell you the story of every one of them.
I will never not love Dianne. I know my last thought will be of her. But I will make no shrine. I am that shrine. And on that day where I got that letter in my first year of university from the girl I had a horribly strong secret crush on from the first time I set eyes on her which asked me to come to Ottawa where she was in university because she really wanted to see me - and I put the letter aside because I was betrothed to another now...it's all part of the fabric of the moments in time that make up the stories and now make up the hurt. It would be better that I didn't have the lifetime with her so I wouldn't hurt now. Are you crazy?? We both come from the Ferris Bueller school. Life goes by pretty quickly. If you don't look around once in a while you could miss it.
That all I can do is feed her a banana now is the truth of all of God's creatures. It's miraculous that we become and it's heartwrenching that we go. But it's definitely a five star movie.
We met through a photo. ...November 1961.... He was boarding with mutual friends of my parents, in between jobs, bored one Sunday he spent some time flipping through their photos, and he came across one of me. He asked if they could introduce us, they said to him "she's an only child and her dad is very strict, good luck". They brought a photo of him for me to see and ask if I'd like to meet him...I don't know what it was, but I just felt something, and instant feeling of "he's the one!" Next evening we arranged to go to the movies, met him at the train station, and as I walked up to meet him for the first time, saw him standing there waiting for me, my heart did a few flips, and I knew it was meant to be. April 1962 we were married......my dad never really liked him...I think they tolerated each other. It turned out that my parents knew his back in the old country, actually lived in the same street, only we went to England when I was 3, then here when I was 10.....he came out here when he was 14. We did everything together as a family...he taught me to never give up, keep going, no matter what, I will always remember that. ...I truely believe he is my soul mate...♥
After reading some of these great intimate stories I thought I should add a small incident to my story.
On my third date with my Dear Helen, when I said goodbye to her, she told me that I could give her a kiss if I liked. So I did. Then she said (and I well remember her exact words) "Do you call that a kiss?" I explained to her that I had never kissed anyone befor. We did not kiss in our family. It was my very first Kiss.
Which makes it all the more remarkable that she would stay with me for two and a half months while I was in the hospital. Visiting every day, even tho I was such a terrible kisser.
I just thought I should add this litle bit to my story. It helps to explain why I loved her so much.......GeorgieBoy
I was in my first year of college & my high school boyfriend & I weren't getting along (he had moved to a city about an hour away so we didn't see much of each other). There was a club downtown where 18 year old’s could get in, the drinking age was 21, but because this club “served food” (I never saw any!) we were allowed in. My cousin & a friend & I decided to go because there was a band & we could dance. We were sitting at a table & a bunch of guys were siting at the table next to us. When the music started we got up to go to the dance floor when my cousin & friend got asked to dance. I started back to the table when Tom walked up to me & said, “Don't sit down, you're going to dance with me!” After that they moved their chairs to our table & stayed with us until we closed the place down. We found out that they were sailors stationed at Great Lakes, IL They offered us a ride home, but we declined. They asked if we would be there next week & of course we said YES! I was smittened right from the start. I thought about him all week. Sure enough the next weekend there they were. This time we let them drive us home & I let him kiss me. I saw him every weekend. Then the week that Martin Luther King was assassinated he was restricted to the base & he told me that he would come & see me as soon as the restriction was lifted. Well 2 days later I was in my upstairs bedroom & I heard a car door close & when I looked out the window I saw him. I was so excited I ran down the steps ran out the front door & almost knocked him down the porch steps. We went for a ride & he said that he had NEVER had anyone so happy to see him. We went down to the lakefront & while we were sitting on a bench he got down on one knee & asked me to marry him & I said YES! (mind you, we had only known each other for 6 weeks!) We were engaged for a year while he was on a 9 month cruise with the Navy. We wrote to each other everyday. My relatives thought it would never last, but we will celebrate 44 years this June.
We met at work. I was working as a "commercial supervisor" in the telephone company business office and he was in the marketing department. It was a very social office and I made friends quickly. We would go out in groups dancing, to bars after company baseball games, etc., so we had seen each other but never talked. One day Rich came up to me and said "Hi, I think I should know you" and shook my hand. I thought "Really? That's the worst pick up line ever". My friends laughed and told me that I was "better" than him and I shouldn't go out with him. I had no intentions of dating him so I didn't think anymore about it. About 1 month later Rich sat down next to my desk and told me that he was spening the Presidents Day weekend at his college reunion. I told him I had no plans but would consider being his date for the weekend. Of course I was kidding but he looked at me shocked and told me he had only reserved one room at the hotel but if I wanted to go he would let me sleep in the bed and he would take the floor. My friends overheard me and asked if I was crazy. I said I was only joking and surely he knew that I was and that I had no intention of going on a weekend date with someone I only knew casually. They convinced me that perhaps he thought I was serious, so I found him at his desk and explained that I was joking and would not be going with him to the reunion. Not missing a beat, he asked me out on a date the evening he returned. We started dating pretty seriously after that and when I transferred to NJ we commuted each weekend to be together. We dated for 3 years, mostly long distance when he asked me to marry him. I actually liked the relationship the way it was...I could persue my career during the week and have fun with him on weekends, so I was not as ethusiastic as I should have been. Shame on me, he started seeing a woman he worked with and began to get serious. It was the most miserable 3 months of my life (but I did get very skinny)! Then suddenly I got a call from him asking to meet and discuss whether or not we had a future. At the meeting we discussed getting back together and our "rules" for the relationship. His was that we would have to get married. I agreed. We got engaged 4 moths later and got married 4 months after that. And believe it or not, I did marry my soulmate and the love of my life...it just took me sometime to know that.
Mine is short- but sweet! I was divorced, DH's wife had died from MS. He and I worked for the same industrial psychological firm, but he worked in a northern state and I worked in S. Fl. He flew down for a meeting and I was designated to pick him up at the airport. First time we had met. Went out to dinner - and we've been together ever since! That's what happens -sometimes!
Dave and I met on Sept. 13, 1973..my 18th birthday. My dad had gotten me a job at GTE (where he worked) right out of high school. I started 3 weeks before my birthday. I made friends rather quickly, and my co-workers decided to throw me a birthday party on that night. Dave also worked there (for my Dad as a matter of fact) and he showed up with some of his work buddies...any excuse to party. The band started to play La Bamba (we were at a bowling alley) and he grabbed my hand and on to the dance floor we went! After the dance, we found a quiet table and talked the rest of the evening. He was 10 years older than me, owned a home (very impressive) and had to leave at 11:00 because Sears was delivering his new washer & dryer the next morning. Is this guy for real? The next day I told my Dad I had met him. "Oh Dave's great, so are his wife and 5 kids" was his response. I was crushed! Dave called me several days later and asked me if I wanted to go bike riding at the beach on Saturday. "Where will your wife and kids be" I asked. "My what???" Well, seems my Dad had a good laugh at my expense. After the bike ride that Saturday, I knew he was the one, but I was so young! We were inseparable from that day on. He talked a lot about wanting to start a family, but I sort of skirted the issue. In January of 1975 our best friends got married. During the bouquet toss, I caught the flowers. Dave took me out on the dance floor and said "guess we're next". I informed I was too young to get married. As we danced to a slow number he said "I know at 20 you think you're too young to get married. I'm 30, and I love you and I want to start a family while I'm still young enough to play. If you marry me, I promise that when we retire, we'll have all the time in the world to do all the things you want to do". We were married March 13, 1975. We spent many wonderful years raising our 2 boys, Dave was the best Dad, and loved the 3 of us unconditionally. The boys grew up, and 1 year after he retired, EOAD was diagnosed. So much for traveling and doing all the things I wanted to do! I wouldn't trade a minute of it for anything!