To Honor, Love, and Cherish…All the Days of Our Lives

As was inevitable, one of these special people passed away recently. Ray Moreau was the kind of person everyone should try to be. He and Theresa were, and will always be, the true rocks of the Broadmeadow/Moreau clan.

I wrote this piece several months ago and it still holds true today. If there are such beings as angels, one may no longer be here in this mortal plane but he will always be with us.


Within every family there are those who are the foundation. In the Moreau and Broadmeadow families, Theresa (Broadmeadow) and Ray Moreau—to paraphrase from another story—were the rock upon which the family was built.

They were both born in 1928—although Ray is much younger because Theresa robbed the cradle— and have been married for seventy-one years.  Think about that for a moment…seventy-one years. Some people don’t live that long, let alone stay married to the same person.

But in their case, there was never any doubt it would turn out this way.

The Broadmeadow clan—Edward, Catherine (Szpila), Theresa, Rosemond (Alves), and Joe (my father and namesake)— were a prolific bunch with a plethora of off-spring. There were myriad cousins of all age levels. Whenever there was a holiday, special occasion, or just a nice afternoon, we always seemed to find our way to Bellmore Dr. in Pawtucket or Redgate Rd. in Cumberland once the Moreaus moved there.

Christmas was almost always at the Moreau’s. There’d be someone dressed as Santa handing out gifts for everyone.

Every year we would also have a family picnic.  I recall one incident which reflects the sense of humor Theresa embraced.  This particular year the party was at our house on Harriet Lane in Cumberland.

My father and I were getting things ready in the backyard just as Theresa and Ray arrived.  As we were walking out to meet them, my father sunk knee deep into the apparently overfilled septic system. He struggled to extract himself, with me doing what I could to help—which wasn’t much.

Theresa happened to walk around the corner at that exact moment. I could see by the look in her eyes she recognized the seriousness of the situation and ran back toward the front of the house, I assumed to get Ray and my cousins, Bobby and Dave, to help.

Seventy-one years ago they promised to love, honor, and cherish each other. And they kept every word.

Which she did.

But before she actually let them help, she whipped out her camera and took a bunch of pictures. She was laughing the entire time we hosed my father off.

But it was during those difficult moments every family experiences that the true nature of Theresa and Ray shone through. Whatever the issue—health matters, divorce, unplanned pregnancies, death—they were there as a source of support and comfort.

They shared their own difficulties, surviving the passing of their two boys, Bobby and Dave. Yet even in their sons’ too short lives, they were remarkable parents and took much pride in their boys. And they experienced the joys of becoming grandparents.

Yet it is their enduring relationship of more than seven decades that is the most awe inspiring.

Back in the 60s and 70s cars came standard with front bench seats. Girls would often sit in the middle seat, near their boyfriend driver, as a sort of symbol of young love.

We all did it when we got that magic driver’s license.

So did Theresa and Ray. They only stopped when they bought a car that didn’t have a front bench seat.

Even the bizarre tradition of the padiddle (perhaps it was a local Cumberland or Rhode Island custom of unknown origin) of the two front seat lovebirds, close together on the bench seat, kissing each other when a car with one headlight out approached.

Theresa and Ray did that as well.

Words are incapable of showing the enduring love of Ray and Theresa Moreau. Seventy-one years ago they promised to love, honor, and cherish each other. And they kept every word.

Now that they are in the twilight of their days, these images say it all.

We could all learn a lesson from these two special people. With people like Theresa and Ray Moreau gracing this planet, there is hope for humanity.

A Little Girl Grown Too Soon

I will be away from writing for a few days. Off to celebrate my daughter’s wedding.

A little girl grown all too soon. Such is the speed at which life flies by.

A moment ago she was a tiny human being newly arrived in the world.

Today, a beautiful, dynamic, and independent woman beginning the latest chapter of her remarkable life.

It has been an amazing privilege to hold that little girl’s hand, all the time knowing the day to let her go was fast approaching.

Life continues and I look forward to it.

“The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time…”

James Taylor

A Baby, A Child, A Woman, A Bride: Life and Coming Full Circle

The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time…

                                                                                  James Taylor

In a few short weeks, I will bear a new title. Father of the bride. Just the thought of it can bring both tears to my eyes and a smile to my face.

Kelsey’s first look at me was as I said her name minutes after she was born. She opened her eyes and reduced me to tears.

A smiling, terrified, joyful, blubbering mess.

Our daughter, Kelsey Broadmeadow, just a short time ago an infant in our arms.

It seemed twenty minutes later, she was heading off to school. Now my wife was in tears.

Our little girl was growing up.

High school lasted fifteen minutes. College, five. And Law School was over in a moment.

Yes, she is a lawyer. I never said she was perfect.

Now, the ultimate life changing event.

Our little girl is to become a bride.

There is a tradition of giving away your daughter in marriage. I cannot understand how I could be expected to give away a piece of my heart.

She was never mine to give away.

My job was to enjoy the privilege of watching her grow into the person she has become.

From those first moments, after she entered this world, my job was to hold onto her. Knowing the time to let her go would come all too soon.

Letting her choose her own path. I hope we have lived up to our promise.

She has made her choice. I can only hope he knows how lucky he is.

Who knows what the future may hold for her and her husband? I hope they have the same opportunity to feel those tears, to wear that smile, and to experience life as it continues the cycle.

It has been the greatest thing having her as part of our life. Now we have the opportunity to celebrate as she begins a new chapter of hers.

If James Taylor is right, if that is indeed the secret to life, I have enjoyed every moment. I just wish they would not have passed by so fast.

The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time….

This father of the bride could not have wished for a better life or a more incredible daughter.

Try not to try too hard, it’s just a lovely ride.

(In case you’ve never heard the song, here’s a link)