70-year love story stands test of more than time
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When Al Evely said ‘I do,’ he meant it.
“You pretty much have to, or you let yourself down, really,” he said Friday at the door of he and wife Vera’s Tillsonburg residence.
Not many marriages last seven decades. But even among that select group Al and Vera’s 70-year relationship stands out as a test of more than time.
They had met indirectly through Vera’s brothers, who Al played ball with. Their house was en route, he admits with a shy laugh, to ‘another girl’s home,’ but he decided to stop in at the Hynes one evening, and as they say, the rest is a 70-year history of love and commitment.
It admittedly wasn’t love at first sight.
“Not really,” says Al. “Good companions and it grew as we went along.”
The couple went together for two-and-a-half years before Al proposed, a month shy of his 20th birthday.
“There was no hesitation, she accepted and we’ve been together ever since.”
The couple consummated their marriage vows at Trinity United Church in Sydney, N.S. August 23, 1943 in front of family and friends. A flat tire on Al’s father-in-law’s vehicle, compounded by a wartime shortage of tires meant the ceremony was an hour late, but the couple has certainly made up for lost time.
A second close call in a Glace Bay coalmine directed Al’s career path away from The Maritimes. The combination of a visit to Port Burwell where his brother-in-law extolled the money one could make working in tobacco, and a strike at the Sydney steel plant Al was employed at, brought about a move this way, and ultimately, a career as a mechanic in Port Burwell, Straffordville and Tillsonburg, and shared holidays camping around the great lakes.
“We had a pretty fair life all told,” he says. “Didn’t get rich mind you, but I was lucky I worked all my life.”
Al is cautious about dispensing advice for others, given the changing nature of society, in terms, for example, of financial expectations (all new, right away) and values (a little ‘permissive’).
“You can’t give advice,” he laughs. “Because they won’t take it.”
He and Vera’s 50th anniversary photo shows a smiling, youthful-looking couple, still clearly in love after 50 years together. Their 60th anniversary shot is similar, save for what is not apparent from the picture: Vera had received her initial diagnosis of Alzheimer’s Disease a year previous, in 2002.
Little things were coming up, said Al, “You don’t notice it right away.”
It was toughest at first, says Al, “because you don’t understand it.”
In 11 years, Vera’s Alzheimer’s has become progressively worse. Initially, they maintained their mobility, but for the past five years, have pretty much shared time inside their home.
They celebrated their ‘official’ 70th quietly at home Friday, but will be making a foray out this weekend, invited to a celebration at the Woodstock home of one of their two sons: Daniel (David lives in Tillsonburg).
“He wants us up there at 2 o’clock, so something’s going on,” smiled Al, who along with Vera, also have seven grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.
His dedication has never wavered through Alzheimer’s gradual progression, or the ‘argument Vera lost with an electric wheelchair,’ several years ago. Al visited every day for her four months in the hospital, feeding Vera each meal.
“I did it because I wanted to, not because I had to,” he clarified.
The statement could be applied through the past decade. Al remains primary caregiver, supported comparatively recently by one hour daily from Red Cross staff who come and bathe Vera.
Al has not considered giving up his chosen role. But an awareness physical limitations may eventually play a role for even the most fit and determined 90-year-old, means he has put Vera on a waiting list for a care facility.
“Otherwise, no, I wouldn’t part with her, only if something were to happen to me. I told the lady from CCAC I wanted her name on the bottom, I don’t want her going to a home as long as I can take care of her.”
And in that sense, their 70-year love story is remarkable not only for standing more than the test of time, but for the fact it is ongoing.
“I suppose you might call it that, certainly not anything else, but,” Al said, pausing for a moment to turn and quietly regard his life companion. “I wouldn’t be without her.”