Fifty years.

On this date in 1973 my parents got married. Five years ago was the last time we all celebrated together. Now, when I look at that picture, I can see how sick she was. But when you’re in it, you don’t have any concept. It’s all-consuming, all around you and then, when it’s over, it’s like the air being sucked out. You can’t breathe, you aren’t sure what to do.

And it comes back to this, the most simple of truths – the only way out is through.

And perhaps we will never be through grief. I still have nights when I sob myself to sleep. Missing my grandmother who died in 2007. Missing my mother who died in the final days of 2018. Missing the people who made me inherently me. Tired and scared of navigating this life without them. But without any other options.

So I choose to celebrate this day, the dawn of our family. The joining of Penelope Jane Allan McLeod of Edinburgh, Scotland to Louis Francis Simone of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania United States. They got married at the Park Shenley – Jennie J would have it no other way. My mother wore a quintessentially 70’s gown with a fur muff, her bridesmaids in pink and deep maroon. My mother had a magic about her, in the curve of her smile and the twinkle in her eye. She lit rooms up with laughter and conversation and every person felt special because of her and to her. She and my Dad made a handsome couple, and were always up for fun, adventure and new experiences. My Dad tells stories now of the road trips and open windows and Allman Brothers playing on the stereo. I think of my young mother, a new wife in a new country, and I wonder at how she managed it all. I watch my father, nearly five years alone, still fulfilling all her wishes. Still keeping her alive in every way he knows how.

Once upon a time, I thought everything was so simple. There was a right way and a wrong way. It was black and white. But age and life experience have taught me that life is all shades of gray, but rarely if ever black or white. There is nuance and choice and perspective. Marriage isn’t one thing or another, but rather all the things, rolled up and shaken about. Life is heartache and loss as well as happiness and triumph. It is all the things.

When my parents got married all those years ago, they had no idea what they would build. Dave and I weren’t even glints in their eyes. They were adopting a puppy and playing golf and laughing and living and stumbling and getting back up and trying again. And now we are here, living testaments to who they were as parents and as people. Picking up where they left off, and doing our best to make them proud.

I can’t imagine having better parents than mine.

Cheers to my Mama and my Dad. Cheers to the forty-five years they had together and cheers to the day, fifty years ago, when they promised forever. Thank you.