Ten years ago if you had told me that one day I would be hoping for a marriage, a relationship as solid and good as theirs, I would tell you that you were batshit crazy. Yes, that is exactly what I would have told you. But there’s something about growing up, having relationships of your own, and learning to understand your parents not as your parents but as people that makes you realize that a great marriage isn’t fireworks and epic storylines. Rather, it lies in the small things.
The way his arm cradles her shoulder and the way she fits perfectly into his hold, the comfortable silences where they just sit together doing nothing, her absurd humor that no one else gets but him, they way they always come to each other’s defense when one of us starts criticizing. How he would always kiss her before going off to work in the evenings, they way they poke fun at each other, their fierce love for the three lives they brought into this world, and the commitment and love that brought them through more than two decades of a marriage. (they haven’t quite hit the thirty year mark yet).
These are the things you only realize when you’re older, the insight and clarity that comes with age. Or, while you’re sitting there writing an anniversary speech for a public speaking class in college. I guess in my case, it’s a little bit of both.
My parents were not a love marriage in the traditional sense; it was arranged and thank God for that! My brothers and I wouldn’t have existed if it weren’t for that. Two completely opposite people would never have gotten together, if it weren’t for fate.
If this was high school, she’d be the head cheerleader: funny, cute, beautiful, the perfect social butterfly. He on the other hand would be the complete wallflower: quiet, completely random at times, actually the exact opposite of her really. They say marriages are made in heaven and I’ve spent my entire life watching their marriage to know there must be some truth to it.
When my dad had his stroke, she spent a year not sleeping right. Every time he skipped a breathe, she woke up and wouldn’t sleep again until he was breathing became normal again. As for him, he wouldn’t even know what clothes to wear in the morning if it isn’t for her. If he has any sense of color coordination, it’s all thanks to her. He’s her rock when anything goes wrong, especially with us three, their troublesome kids.
Together they make the perfect person. Every day I see them together and I know they were meant for one another. I see the love in her eyes in the things that she does for him. Although, he’s not always good at showing it, his love is ever present in the little things he does for her.
“The development of a really good marriage is not a natural process. It is an achievement.”
