Sixty-seven and Counting

Today is my parents’ sixty-seventh anniversary.  Yes, you read that right–67 years of married life … to the same person.  Something that’s almost unheard of today.   My husband and I joke that we have 51 years–collectively. But my mom and dad’s first date was 71 years ago today, also.  Seventy-one years with the same person.

The odds were against them.  They married when both of them were only 19.  They were both babies of the family, used to having their way.  It wasn’t easy.  They argued–loud, boisterous fights followed by long days of silence.  As a child, I remember being frightened by the yelling, but perhaps even more by the silence that came afterward.  The yelling seemed normal.  The quiet was just weird.  But after the season of storms had passed–the loud and then the quiet– things were happy.

I wasn’t one of those kids whose parents never fought–mine fought about stupid things, unimportant things that didn’t amount to a hill of beans … but they always made up.  There was always peace after the storm.  I learned a valuable lesson from that.  I learned that people who love each other argue.  They scream and cry and curse and sometimes even throw things.  But love prevails and bringst with it the time of peace.

For 71 years, my parents have been loving each other.  Not seeing the other as perfect, but loving anyway.  Their devotion to each other has stayed steadfast, not only through the easy times, but through the hard times as well.  Exactly the way a marriage should be.

I think my dad summed it up best at their 50th wedding anniversary party–a lavish event and a true celebration since my mom had been diagnosed with cancer a few months before.  He took the mike, tearfully, simply, and joyously stating: “If I had it to do all again, I’d do it with her.”

Hard to believe that was 17 years ago.

I was at their house yesterday and she was complaining that he interrupted her and he complained that she watched too much FOX News.

Same old story … and the same blessed ending.

And now you know why I was destined to be a romance writer.

So how about you?  What did you take to heart from your parents’ lesson of love?