wuv. twoo wuv.
Today is my parents’ 38th anniversary.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I haven’t been doing ANYTHING for 38 years, let alone figuring out how to live with another human being in love and relative peace.
It’s a rare thing these days. Or any days, really.
Here’s their story, as I told it last year:
On February 14th, 1970, a gangly 23-year-old and a green-eyed 19-year-old were married in a church in Burnaby. The bridesmaids wore pink. The roses were red. He only weighed 123 pounds.
Their reception was at Frank Baker’s restaurant in West Van. The salad was, by all accounts, excellent.
Their honeymoon was a weekend in Seattle. They only ate at Denny’s, because he was nervous to eat anywhere else. It’s hard to say if this is why he only weighed 123 pounds.
Shortly after they were married, they set off for Texas, where he would attend seminary, and she would eventually give birth to a pretty baby who didn’t like having food on his face.
They headed to their first church in Saskatchewan a couple of years later, and completed their family with a baby girl in 1974. She didn’t so much mind the food on her face. Or yelling random things from her crib when she got bored.
Countless moves, churches, jobs and challenges have come up since, and they’ve faced each one together.
He has been a minister and a musician for more than 35 years, but he has also been everything from an English professor to a cop to a hockey referee.
She is a designer, artist, and seamstress now, but she has also been everything from an art teacher to a caterer to the person who painted the sides of the buses.
They are fairly different people, with different personalities and different talents and different ways of dealing and different favourite flavours of ice cream.
They agree on their commitment, the way they adore their kids, their faith, their politics, the value of British comedy, the vacation potential of the Oregon Coast, and the intrinsic magic of Chinese takeout. And a thousand other things, of course.
They disagree about how one should handle traffic stress, the way email should be punctuated, and whether or not shirts really need to go to the drycleaners. And a thousand other things, of course.
But they are, above all else, still very much in love.
This past year has brought a lot more challenges to their path, with my grandfather’s death and a big move to a new place. There are always details to be ironed out, problems to solve, people to take care of… life to be lived. You have to keep going.
And it’s not always easy.
They do it together, though, even when they feel more like poking one another in the eye than snuggling.
I’m so proud of them, I can’t even tell you.
So to my mom and dad:
I love you two.
I love the way you are with one another, from the silly squabbles you have about the same things you squabbled about 30 years ago, to the way you can finish one another’s sentences.
I love how you live, from the long drives you take together — talking or not talking about everything, like the line from Best in Show — to the tv shows you watch together, keeping track of the plotlines when one of you goes to grab your individual pints of ice cream (chocolate for Dad, coffee for Mom) from the fridge.
I love how you care for your children, from the way you keep us accountable to the dreams and hopes we have, to the way you give us anything we need if it’s in your power to give it. And sometimes when it’s not.
I love how you have held on to love, from the tough promises you’ve kept, to the silly cards you give year after year.
You inspire me to be a better person every single day, even as I know the best parts of me are the ones you’ve put there, anyway.
And on the days I wonder if I’ll ever have something so good in my own life, all I need to do is hang on to a bit of the faith you have in my future.
I have nothing but delight in yours.
So here’s to a million more years of you.
And to one of “your songs”…
February 14th, 2008 at 11:36 am
What a wonderful story of a journey of love & commitment. Wishing them many more glorious years! :)
February 14th, 2008 at 11:57 am
That’s so beautiful. Congrats to your parents!
February 14th, 2008 at 12:01 pm
Thank you for this. After reading it, I think I love your parents too! Tell them congratulations for me.
February 14th, 2008 at 2:00 pm
Happy Anniversary, you guys…
February 14th, 2008 at 2:42 pm
Lovely. Simply lovely.
Happy Anniversary Meg’s mom and dad.
“Mawwage, that bwessed awwangement. That dweem wiffin a dweem”
February 14th, 2008 at 2:56 pm
That has got to be one of the best and most touching posts I’ve read in a very long time.
Thank you Meg.
February 14th, 2008 at 4:05 pm
bon anniversaire, fowlers!
February 14th, 2008 at 9:44 pm
iSore and mum send gratitude for the kind words and especially the extended quotation from the wedding ceremony to end all wedding ceremonies. I have often used it in rehearsals and perhaps one day, when an entire wedding party may be uncertain about my sanity, I will use it in the actual wedding. I may lose my certification but then - who knows - I might then be eligible for a different kind of certification.
February 15th, 2008 at 7:06 am
Happy anniversary, you krazy kids!
February 15th, 2008 at 7:52 pm
Congratulations to iSore and mum. I can’t believe that I met them shortly after they married. I think I was strapping 17 year old. We met twangin’ our strings; him doing Lighfoot…me doing Lennon. Your mum was like an older sister to me. I didn’t remember that she was only but a couple of years older than me and married with a kid. Wow. 38 years already.
February 24th, 2008 at 6:47 pm
Wow! I just teared right up reading this. I can hear our children saying the something similar about the squabbling over the same things over all these years. Though we are a few years behind your parents here’s to wishing them and everyone many, many more full years. Thanks Meg.