My Turn: Anniversary celebration every month for 25 years

My husband, Hank, and I married later in life, and given the reality of health issues and age, we made the most of every moment. We have traveled the world, engaged in various volunteer activities in the community and our church, and pursued hobbies.

Our marriage, of course, is of utmost importance to us, and we thought of ways to keep the romance alive and always remember our anniversary.

We were married on Aug. 6, so we decided to celebrate on the sixth of every month. We buy each other a card and go out for dinner. We call this our "monthaversary" and have kept it up for over 25 years! (Naturally, there have been times when we missed it due to hospitalization or illness.) It sometimes amazes us that we have been able to keep it going, but it is our time to treat each other and tell each other how much we are loved. I have saved all the cards!

Each five years, we plan a special celebration on our anniversary date and renew our vows. I am blessed to have a wonderful husband who enjoys these traditions as much as I do.

Mary Buschman,
Amityville

I WOULDN'T TRADE MY CHILDHOOD FOR ANYTHING

Some time ago, I stumbled onto a PBS program named "The Big Bands." As a World War II veteran in my 80s, I was overcome by the nostalgia that accompanied the music of Harry James, Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman, Doris Day and Ella Fitzgerald.

Today, our grandchildren would call it "elevator music" -- maybe because it had melody, rhythm and lyrics without four letter words. It was the music of the Great Depression and the war years.

This nostalgia led me to ask myself who had the better childhood, my grandchildren or me? They have computers, cellphones, Little League and parents who chauffeur them to school, soccer practice and McDonald's. They are much more worldly and sophisticated than my friends and I were -- but not necessarily smarter.

They learned how to make babies 10 years earlier than I did, and they use words that were forbidden in our home. They grow up in a confusing, complex, nuclear world, under intense pressure to succeed, with unclear guidelines for success.

I lived in the Bay Park section of East Rockaway. In those years, it was a kid-friendly place. We had time to grow up; to be kids and progress slowly into teenagers and then adulthood. Drugs were unheard of. We played in the dark without fear of being molested. There was lots of room to ride bikes and play cops and robbers. Unfortunately, Bay Park is now the home of a smelly sewer plant. During my childhood, that same area was a marshland, a breeding place for fish and birds . . . an environmental treasure!

I walked to school every day, even during the cold, freezing winters that were common in my youth. I walked to the stores, to the dentist and to see my friends. There was no alternative. We had no car. We didn't even have a telephone.

As I got a little older, my father was able to buy me a secondhand bike. That was a memorable moment in my childhood! All my friends shared one thing: None of us had any money. We didn't know how really poor we were, even though our parents were struggling to put food on the table and clothes on our backs. Our baseballs were more tape than ball. Our bats were splintered relics. We played street games and made do. There were no organized sports. We had "pick-up" games -- if you showed up, you played. As we entered our teenage years, the war was on, and it brought many changes to our lives . . . some good, some not so good. We were now becoming old enough to go to war. I was lucky; some of my friends never made it home.

I had a great childhood! My fondest memory was going to see the Brooklyn Dodgers play ball. My brother-in-law had an old Essex car with a rumble seat. Riding to Ebbets Field in that rumble seat was my idea of heaven. After filling up with gas at 10 gallons for a dollar, we were off to see a doubleheader; the only thing better was if they were playing the hated New York Giants.

My favorite player was outfielder Dixie Walker. He was our local hero because he owned a liquor store in Rockville Centre. Of course, I rarely saw much of any second game; as a young boy, I was asleep by then.

Would I trade childhoods with my grandchildren? I love them dearly, but I would never trade my splintered bat for a cellphone or ever forget the rumble seat ride to Ebbets Field. I wish our kids well, but I am glad I grew up when I did.

Allen Kerner,
Wantagh

Submissions to My Turn must be the writer's original work. Email act2@newsday.com, or write to Act 2 Editor, Newsday Newsroom, 235 Pinelawn Rd., Melville, NY 11747. Include your name, address and phone numbers. Stories will be edited, become property of Newsday and may be republished in any format.