60 Years.

My parents celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary last week in an assisted living facility. My mother’s dementia took a downturn a few days before this and I don’t think she understood what was happening, but we tried to celebrate as a family.

In all honesty, I know that I’ve judged my parent’s marriage for most of my life. It’s only within the last few months that I’ve come to understand the depth of their love.

Here’s what I see now:

Owning a house has always been important to my father and he took a tremendous amount of pride in his home. The snow was meticulously shoveled after every storm and the lawn was well-manicured. His garage was packed full of the tools he’d taken a lifetime to gather, and he knew how to fix or build almost everything.

He took care of my mother in their house until a few months ago when he realized that he could no longer provide the care she really needed. He insisted on moving into assisted living with her so they could be together rather than putting her into a memory care facility.

He found a facility that would take both of them- and allow my mother to be in assisted living rather than memory care.

He sold his house.

He gave away or sold almost everything he’d collected and loved- including his garage full of tools.

He sits with my mother every day and tells her that she has 4 daughters and talks about each of us.

He gets down on his aching knees to tie her shoes.

He still calls her sweetie, even when she has no idea who he is.

He made a vow. And he’s going above and beyond to honor that vow.

This is love.

I’m grateful I got the opportunity to challenge my own assumptions about them and see this- that love, true love, doesn’t look like it does in the summer blockbuster movies.

It looks like this.