All I Know About Being Married

All I know about being married, and most of what I know about life, comes from the example my parents set during my formative years.

Laugh often, work hard, forgive with grace.

Wink at each other without letting everyone else in on the secret.

Don't let the kids be more important than the spouse, or the spouse more important than the family, or the family more important than God.

You married this person because you love this person, not because you expected him or her to change.

You are part of something much bigger than yourself.

Mom and Dad were married on a scorching Kansas evening 58 years ago today. She wore the most beautiful wedding dress I've ever seen, and carried a bouquet of daisies. My sister and I wore the dress at our own weddings, and it's hanging in my closet today. It was only one way all of us have unconsciously modeled our own marriages after the best relationship we knew.

The photographer lost the negatives so only two of my parents' wedding pictures exist. One of these photos shows them cutting the wedding cake, their first responsibility as a married couple. They are so focused and earnest that I want to go back in time and give them a hug.

"Don't worry. You're going to do a great job," I want to tell them. "You're going to be the best parents ever, and you'll be in love until death do you part and beyond."

Happy anniversary, Dad and Mom. We remember.