Fifty-two years ago today, a tall, thin young man and his petite young bride pledged their lives to one another.
Just a few years earlier, in one of their high school classes, he’d approached her desk and flipped her notebook closed to get her attention so he could ask her to the prom. She said yes, and they had their first date.
Yesterday, that tall, thin man–no longer young, but still in love–passed away. This morning, on their 52nd anniversary, the petite bride woke up alone.
My mother-in-law and father-in-law–like my own parents–meant it when they said their vows. They kept those vows through hardship and victory, babies and teenagers, the deaths of their own parents and the births of their grandchildren.
Through their commitment, they have taught their son, my husband, how to love and how to stay and how to keep his promises. I owe them both more than I know how to express, and much more than I could ever pay.