My parents were married on this day 31 years ago. They stood in a garden — my mom wearing a lacy white hat and my dad with a handkerchief tucked into his tuxedo pocket — and vowed to love and honor each other all the days of their lives.
They grew from high school sweethearts to spouses to parents. And through every obstacle, their love has remained strong and their laughter has remained constant.
Over the weekend, while Nick and I were cleaning out the boxes we’ve yet to unpack, I came across a poem I wrote for a college writing course. And there was a photo tucked inside.
This is my parents on prom night, standing in front of the same mantle where I had my own prom pictures taken. And here is the poem.
A shaggy-haired boy sits at the mahogany dining room table.
A single red rose lies in his lap,
brilliant against the deep gray of his twill pants.
His ears perk at the purring engine of a Chevy Malibu
as it turns into the driveway.
His parents follow him to the front porch
to find a pink flush spreading across
the fair-skinned face of the teenage woman as she exits the Malibu.
Her dark hair cascades to her narrow hips,
smooth and straight like sleek strands of silk.
She raises her eyes to meet his deep chestnut ones
as her painted lips part into a smile.
Her dress hangs loosely from her slender figure,
the color of an oyster pearl,
a black lace shawl wrapped around her shoulders.
Her head unconsciously tilts towards his
as his arm easily finds the arch of her back.
A camera captures the moment.
A blond-haired girl sits at the foot of the basement stairs.
The solid oak dresser rises before her,
drawers ajar, photographs spilling from its insides.
A single photo lies in her lap,
gray against her brilliant blue skirt.
She adjusts a strand of her wispy hair,
as her painted lips part into a smile,
imagining her teenage parents.
Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad! May you both always remember that easy, innocent love you felt on prom night and on your wedding day. I love you both!