50 years ago today, my parents got married. And here they are, still married!
Growing up, I often heard the story of their tiny Saturday-evening wedding, which ended up being a bit bigger than planned because some of the people from Sabbath-evening vespers at church decided to stick around to see them married. After the ceremony, they and three guests went out to dinner (and I think the punchline was that the dinner cost $20 for everyone, or something? Correct me if I’m wrong, Dad).
The point is, they may not have been slaves to the idea of the big fairytale wedding — in fact, they were both horrified by the idea. My mom did NOT wear a princessy white wedding dress, and they had one witness each — I’m not even sure there were flowers involved. But it worked. Better than many big fairytale weddings.
I was lucky to grow up in a house where I learned that a good marriage wasn’t one in which people never argued or disagreed — it was one where they forgave each other and went on together afterwards. It’s the best gift they could have given me.
We just got back from four days in New York City celebrating this momentous milestone! At an age (mid-forties) when many of my friends have lost at least one parent and some have lost both, I feel so incredibly blessed to still have both my mom and dad here with us, and in good enough health to be able to travel and celebrate with us. Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!