Fred and Emily Hardwick pose for a picture at the luncheon after sharing their wedding story.From girdle fiascoes to chance meetings and marriages dating back as early as 1938, residents at Greenbriar Cove gathered last week to share their wedding memories.
At the luncheon hosted by the active senior living community, 89-year-old Marian Honeycutt remembered her late husband, Howard, who passed away nearly eight years ago.
“I was 18 when I married him,” she said. “My parents about had a fit. He was 25.”
But the age difference wasn’t the only scandal, her daughter Sandy Connor reminded her. Honeycutt was engaged to another man when she met Howard at a chapel in Boone, N.C., where she was attending teachers college.
“I guess God will forgive me for that, but boy did I treat him horrible,” she said of the man she nearly married. “But I was in love with my Honey – I never called him Howard; I just didn’t like the name.”
Fred and Emily Hardwick were even younger when they got together as 17-year-olds.
“We grew up together, went to school together, and I told the Navy that [during] my first leave I had to marry her because our fathers didn’t approve. My father wanted me to stay on the farm and I didn’t want to. That’s the main reason I got married – to get away from it,” Fred Hardwick laughed, reminiscing about his wedding to Emily in 1951.
“And now we’re 84,” she said.
For Carol Filomena, the most memorable moment was an awkward one: when her stockings kept falling as she was being escorted down the isle.
“I had to take such little steps,” she said. “Nobody had any idea what I was going through.”
The idea for the “Once a Bride” reminiscing session, which was complete with cake and open to all Greenbriar residents and their families, was to provide an opportunity for an open dialogue about loved ones, because other family members and friends often don’t know the full story, said Greenbriar Lifestyle Director Ginger Jordan.
“It’s an opportunity, especially for those who have lost their spouse, to talk about them,” she said. “They come here, and for many of them, their loved one is just a picture next to the bed and we don’t know the story of how they met or their lives before they arrived here.”
For Honeycutt, who just moved to Greenbriar this winter, the program was particularly meaningful as a way to share stories of the man her new neighbors never knew.
“My parents eventually decided he was OK once they realized [the marriage] was really happening,” she said. “They grew to love him like a son, but I can’t talk about that. I’ll cry.”
Marian Honeycutt reminisces about her late husband, Howard, whom she only called Honey.