To my parents, on forty years

Today my parents celebrate forty years of marriage. Their anniversary always sneaks up on me because it is immediately after Christmas and the New Year. But it seems appropriate that as each new year begins, they begin a new year of marriage. A new year of opportunities to love more graciously and selflessly is stretched out before them in a way that is more natural than my own summer anniversary. 

So what can two people accomplish and weather in four decades? They have lived in two different states, six different cities/towns, raised three children, traveled to at least 45 of the fifty states, not quite a dozen countries, held at least 13 jobs between them, owned five houses, an unknowable number of vehicles, been a part of at least five churches, buried three parents, a sister-in-law, one grandchild, and a few dear friends. 

I don't believe my parents have ever taken the easy way out of anything. They pretty much set up camp on the road less traveled by forty years ago and have not been swayed to a different path. They have had times of struggle and hardship- in faith, marriage, and finances. And they have had times when it all has worked out; where trust and faith and getting bills paid has come easy. 

Through it all they have done the hardest thing. They have stayed constant to each other and to their values and to the people in their lives. They have loved when love felt impossible. When trust has felt foreign they have remained steady until it returned. They have wrestled through faith and found their way together. They have taught my brothers and I how to love and how to parent. They have done all these things that have brought them to this day, four decades after they made promises they had no idea about, because they have consistently chosen love and presence in each other's life. 

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. We are so blessed by your love and your example.