Today is my mom and dad’s 42nd anniversary. They are the proud parents of 10 wonderful children and 21 delightful grandchildren. My parents don’t live together anymore. They never got divorced, but they are separated. My mom lives in Utah and my dad lives in heaven. But even before my dad died in a tragic bike accident 12 years ago, they were separate.
I was 19 and old enough to know. I remember issues.
I also remember bliss. The hand holding. Teasing. Laughter. Dad doing Sunday dishes. The wink you think your kids don’t notice. The banter. The trust. The strength. It was good.
There were problems. But before there were problems there was love. I remember it. No matter what color it is painted now, I remember the love.
Together my parents raised 10 kids, but for now they are not together.
Now we I raise kids with my husband. They are dependents of our core and our strength is their benefit.
Today as I celebrate my parent’s anniversary, I will honor the good that I remember. First, I will hold my husband’s hand. Then I’ll give him a wink when I think my kids are not looking (but I hope they are). Then I’ll laugh when I have to ask him to do the dishes. We strive for trust. We work for strength. It is love.
Today we raise kids, but when those kids are grown and gone, I hope to still be holding his hand.
