Most obviously, wedding season is upon us. Two of my dearest friends are getting married this summer and recently, Facebook has blown up with notifications signaling the upcoming nuptials of my friends or their “engaged” relationship status. I love weddings. I love the flowers and the dresses and the smiles. I think my most favorite wedding was one that I wasn’t present for, though. My most favorite wedding was the wedding of my parents. So many great things have come from that day, from their communion.
I don’t know the exact story of their initial meeting, but I think it went something like this. My mom was driving between Brookings and Mitchell; her friend and her took the back roads, I’m assuming as a means of arriving to their destination sooner. Something went wrong with her car that temporarily stalled their trip. After notifying my grandfather, he sent my dad (who worked for a friend of my grandpa) to help my mom. My grandfather wasn’t trying to be a matchmaker, rather, he knew my dad was familiar with the roads my mom was traveling on, meaning he’d be able to be of maximum assistance. I’m not sure if it was love at first sight, but when my dad helped my mom, it began what is now a relationship that I am in awe of.
After my parents started dating, they were engaged and married within a ye
ar. Considering this as their offspring is absolutely bizarre to me. My paren
ts both seem so practical, especially my dad. When I
was little, we’d take family vacations, and my dad would
pack the car with snacks, blankets in case the car broke down, games for us kids.
Every detail that could be planned, was. The evolution of mapquest and Garmins has only increased the detail to which he plans. It’s nearly unthinkable that my dad, such a well-planned and practical person, proposed to my mom after dating her for a few brief months. As bizarre as it seems to me now, though, I’m certain that it was one of the best choices either of them ever made.
I’ve never seen my parents fight. Neither of them have ever said an ill word about the other in front of me. When they make decisions, they make them together. When one cooks, the other does dishes. While roadtripping, if one is tired, the other one drives. Together, they have embody what I envision as a loving marriage, a wonderful relationship. I think my parents are exceptional individuals, not because they have exceptionally wonderful chemical makeups, but because they choose to love each other and love the decisions they make, both independently and
together.
My parents choose to wake up next to each other every day.
My parents choose help my brother, my sister, their families, and my self.
My parents choose to visit my grandparents regularly.
My parents choose to encourage me to spread my wings, even though it means our inevitable geographical separation.
My parents choose to love each other, every single day, they choose to love each other. They met, quite literally, by accident,
but they choose to spend each day together, each day in love with each other.
My parents taught me that loving someone is a choice, a choice waiting to be made by each of us.
There isn't hardly a compliment that any parent would rather receive from their child, than the one you bestowed on Deb and Mark, Natalie. And that you realize the importance of visiting family - be it your parents, your grandparents, your aunts and uncles - that is something one does by observing tradition and respectful behavior (and in the end, those visits provide more rewards than money can buy). Again, kudos to your parents!
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