40 years

That's how long my parents have been married... to each other! That's nearly unheard of in this day and age.

It's a little unfathomable to me too. I'm only 30—a tidy decade away from 40. That simple math tells me my folks have been married 10 more years than I've been alive. Wow.

A little more than three years ago, David and I celebrated our love in a bitty Methodist Church in Northeast Ohio. Note that number—three—a whopping 37 years from 40. Huh.

Don't get me wrong, I love my husband with my entire being. I love waking up next to his grouchy morning self, I love his big, burly bear hugs, I love watching him love our son... it's magical! But it's only been a few years of magic. I often wonder how magical years 11, 23 or 37 are.

I wonder... does my mom still take my dad's breath away? Does my mom do a little inner happy dance when she knows my dad is almost home from a work consultation or the golf course? Do they look into each other's eyes every now and then and smile?

I think they do. I've watched my parents hold hands, kiss each other hello and goodnight, laugh giant belly laughs together, tease one another, travel together, have date nights every Friday to dinner and the movies, dance slow songs at dozens of weddings, enjoy a glass of wine (or an ice-cold beer if you're my dad) every now and then, and most recently they've started golfing together again. They really, really love one another.


As their daughter, I take pride in the fact that they found the one person in the world that completes them. And they've made it work for four decades—despite being a whole lotta' broke for a long time, having FOUR challenging pre-teens & teenagers, and putting four kids through college. I'm proud of them. And I'm proud to be part of the amazing family they created. We may be a little bit Cleaver-ish (as in Leave It to Beaver), but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Happy 40th anniversary, Mom & Dad!