The message in church this morning was about marriages. I was sitting next to my mom and I was thinking not only about my marriage, but about my parents' marriage. As we drove home from church, my mom said something about it not applying to her now, but she hoped that they had shown us that kind of marriage while my dad was alive. It was a very simple statement. Oddly it was very much what I had been thinking about during the service. One of the reasons I blog is because some day I would like my kids and their kids to have my memories written down. I believe understanding your family and where they came from is a wonderful gift. My story began with two people that loved each other. I may have doubted things in my lifetime, but one thing I never doubted was my parents' love for each other. For as long as I can remember, my parents did everything together. My mom has never driven. One would think that would have been quite the hindrance to her, but it really wasn't. I remember being a little girl - preschool age. I think my dad had off on Tuesdays (I know it was a weekday.) He would drive my mom to the bank and to the grocery store. He sat patiently in the car. He didn't have a smartphone or an ipad to keep him busy. He just sat and listened to the radio or maybe read the paper. Now, my dad wasn't perfect. He wasn't one to carry the groceries into the house and help put them away. He had his flaws, but they were pretty minor. I learned at that young of an age that my parents worked well together. She was what he needed and likewise for her needs. Another thing they would do was go to "the club" on Friday night. It was a not fancy social club with a fish fry and cheap beer. They would meet their friends for dinner and maybe some dancing. I was thrilled because we would get tombstone pizza for dinner and I could curl up in their warm waterbed to watch Dallas! Yes, I was an 8 year old hooked on Dallas. When we would go on vacation together, I could tell that they were genuinely happy to have a week off to spend with each other. As I got older, my mom began working days at the hospital every other weekend. My dad was not a hobby guy like my husband is. He didn't have projects and stuff to keep him busy on the weekend. He would get up, read his paper, get his car washed, maybe stop by a friend's house and then he would come home and read some more. He would glance at his watch several times an hour. I knew what he was doing. He was checking if it was time to pick my mom up from work. He was counting down till it was time to get her. He didn't really know what to do with himself while she was away. You could see that he was happy when the time finally clicked away on the clock and he would say, "Going to get mom." as he walked out the door. They would usually stop for dinner somewhere on the way home. None of this is earth shattering. It wasn't like he was buying her diamonds or she was kissing his feet. It was just subtle, daily life. And as I said - they were not perfect. I can hear my mom saying his name through gritted teeth, LEO ALLAN!!! when he would annoy her. I can hear him SCREAMING his loud booming voice over some stupid thing one of us kids did. They were not perfect, but they were good. They were good and loving and decent. Sometime before I had Sebastian, Tim and I were looking at getting a new ring for me. It was a sapphire setting that needed a solitaire diamond in the middle. My mom gave me her wedding ring set to see if that might work. It wasn't set the right way, but she told me to keep it anyway. I wear her wedding rings on my right hand. Every once in a while Sebastian will ask me about why I have two sets of wedding rings on my hands. I tell him that one represents my marriage to his dad - our choice to be a family. The other set represents my parents' marriage and the choice they made to give me the foundation of a wonderful family. They showed me what true agape love is.