Today (April 10) is my parents’ 68th anniversary. Ken and Iris, parents of eight, grandparents of eleven, great-grandparents of five.
So how much love, sacrifice, devotion, anger, frustration, silliness, alienation, joy, heartache and solitude – and luck – do you think makes up the ordinary everydayness the becomes the accumulation of that many days, weeks, months, years?
It boggles my mind.
But isn’t anything worth having, worth working for, worth celebrating, made of those things that seem like work, seem like – sometimes – a waste of time, and occasionally induces wistful reconsideration?
I think about these things as I travel down this path called my writing career. Today is a reminder of something worth celebrating. And I wonder: if I devote myself to my craft the way a loving partner is devoted to their marriage, will I have something worth celebrating in the years to come?
Happy anniversary, folks!