It doesn't matter if you're into Halloween or not. Getting married on the spookiest day of the year is a genius move.

“Bill, I love fish, but I love you more.”

Not only is the Wedding Theme easy to pick, but forget the meal and just make all the reception attendees stand in line to Trick or Treat with the happy couple. You get to have fun, save money on a meal, AND get to talk to everyone. So what if the line goes slow, you're handing out candy!

But neither of those are the real reasons to get married on Halloween.

Why Should We Get Married On Halloween?

Bill and Ann Singing or Something

Because my mom and dad did and they NEVER forgot their anniversary. Not once. And, now that they've been gone since the early '90s, I haven't forgotten their anniversary. None of the Rabe kids have forgotten. 

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Some of Rabe Family Gather - Mom and dad, in front separated by a goofy nephew.

To be honest, they got married on Halloween and November 1st because my dad was in the service, stationed in Germany. As I said in another story a few years ago...

Anne Rady and Bill Rabe dated for a long time. Then, during the Korean War, he was recalled and served in Germany as a propaganda guy. My mom, on vacation, received a telegram asking, "Will you marry me?" She replied, "Yes!" and she made her way to Germany and they were married on October 31st, and November 1st.

One was a Roman Catholic Mass and the other was at the government office. That's how they did it (and maybe still do in Germany). 

The Notes

Now that I'm thinking of them, I want to share a very sweet thing they, and I'm sure many other couples do. They wrote silly notes to each other.

My mom and dad were always writing notes to each other (one of my favorites was, “Bill, I love fish, but I love you more.”) and often in the weirdest places.

My dad's fashion sense was off...but I wasn't one to talk, as this photo shows.

"Because my father had no fashion sense, my mother laid out his clothes for him. When she wasn’t around, one of the kids would take care of it. After he retired, and all the kids had moved out, he started picking out his own clothes again, with terrible results. My mother’s solution was to start making notes in his clothes.

On the inside of his pants, she’d write something like, “Good brown pants, goes with nice blue shirt” and in the collar of the shirt she’d write, ‘nice blue shirt’. Or, “Old black pants – for darkroom only!”"

One night after a dinner party, my mom wanted my dad to go to bed and NOT help her clean up. He usually just made a bigger mess. But instead of saying that, she left the living room, wrote a note, folded it up, and walked back into the room, handing it silently to my dad. Then she went back into the kitchen.

How she signed it is THE BEST PART.

 

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