The 29 Year Promise

It was a long-running family joke that my dad always said he would keep my mom for 29 years before he had to “trade her in.”

We all knew he was joking. He loved her so deeply and so openly that no one ever doubted it.

One Christmas, I was driving him to the mall. He had trouble driving during his cancer treatment, so I took the wheel.

He turned in the passenger seat, smaller than usual, almost childlike, and said softly:

“You know this summer will be 29 years since your mom and I got married.”

I looked over and saw tears in his eyes.

Trying to lighten the moment, I said, “Yeah, you trading her in?”

He smiled, but his voice cracked. Then he said clearly and firmly:

“No. I want to do something big. A surprise.”

I said, “You want to remarry her?”

“Yes,” he said boldly. And the plan was on.

For months, we secretly planned their 29th anniversary vow renewal.

Dad picked out his outfit at Von Maur with help from his favorite salesperson. It was casual but sharp, with a hat he loved.

Mom, who is just as gullible as I am, was told that family was in town for reunions and other things.

On the morning of the renewal, my cousins and aunt shuffled her out of the house to go shopping.

The second she pulled away, Dad had the cordless phone in hand like a bat signal. He sharply bent his arm, pressed dial, and mechanically put his only ear to the phone.

He called the caterer and the florist at his beloved Hy-Vee, where he was practically family, and the setup kicked into full motion.

Food, flowers, and loved ones filled our backyard within hours.

Even the florist said to me, “They don’t make them like your dad anymore.”

When Mom walked in and realized what was happening, she was overwhelmed with love and joy.

We gathered together, surrounded by the people they cherished, as they renewed their vows in the backyard they built together.