Valentines Day has come and gone this year and instead of focusing on the fact that no one was standing in front of my door
with a large teddy bear, my favorite snacks and telling me to get back in bed because we're binging Netflix movies.

I've decided to recognize a love that I grew up seeing.

Over the years, I watched my parents continue to fall in love with each other. 5 years as friends and eventually dating,
27 years of marriage. 32 years together and 3 beautiful children later, they still pick on and laugh with each other as if
they just met. They still kiss each other hello and goodbye as if they are sharing their first kiss all over again. They still argue
and say I love you like they are continuously stuck in the honeymoon stage. I often find myself sitting at the kitchen island watching my dad watch my mom as she works. And when I truly look, there is nothing but love, support, and satisfaction
within his eyes. Over the years I have asked my dad what it feels like to be in love and be with one person for the
rest of his life, and he would reply along the lines of "because you know, your mom, she's my best friend... wouldn't want to spend this life with anyone else".

This type of love is really the only type of permanent love I have seen, and it made me think.

That although I am always gagging at the public displays of affection that my parents put on no matter who is there or
where we are, I didn't realize that when I grow up I want a love like my parents' love until this past New Years. You see,
New Years at my house isn't a rager. There isn't a lot of people. Just close friends and family that we as a unit want in
our lives for ball drop after ball drop. My house at New Years involves music and laughter that can be heard throughout
the entire neighborhood. At 18 I always envied my friends that got to celebrate together in someone's basement, but this
year I envied less because of this; let me paint the scene. Cue up an old school love song and imagine two wildly in love individuals dance and laugh together. My mother's hand in my father's as they sway and whisper to each other with nothing
but laughter and contempt in their eyes. They swayed and hugged and danced and laughed as if they were alone. As if the
whole room came to a slow spin and all that they could see is each other, all that they have achieved together, all of the years that they spent together, all of the things that they have seen and experience together, all wrapped up within their embrace.

My siblings and I are always the first people to bust their chops when they are all-- for lack of a better word--"lovey-dovey"
and I know I can't speak for them but I know that the love I see from my parents makes me hope I am lucky enough to experience that love. That type of forever love. It's the little things that stick with me and make me realize that this type
of love is beautiful. The type of love that takes its form as my mom falling asleep on my dad's chest while he watches
the game. Or the type of love that looks like unplanned outfit matching and even offering the last bite of a good meal just because. For 18 years I have had the honor of watching my parents continue to fall in love with one another and find
new things to love as time goes on. Constant love. Beautiful love. An irreplaceable type of love.

So to my parents, thank you for giving me the perfect example of what love should look like. Thank you for giving me my favorite romantic comedy within the walls of my own house. Thank you, because at 18, I now understand a little bit more
than I did. Love is messy, pure, and specific to the individuals. My parents' love can't be duplicated but they did give a rough outline for me to follow and make my own.

Thank you for reminding me that love isn't perfect and it takes effort and will, to keep something so wholesome.

Forever your fan,

M
(or their favorite child... you know whatever works for them)