My parents have been married for 24 years, twenty four years! - that's a long time. That's longer than I have been alive, but that was half expected, wasn't it, and today we were able to celebrate the two dozen years that they have been married, and as always, out comes the story of how my parents got together.
He was twenty one, she was nineteen, they were at the beach and he stole her shoes. That, in my opinion, is love.
Their love is the kind of love that doesn't need words; that knows when the other needs a cup of tea and know without discussion when they are trying to cut back on sugar or when they need a heaped teaspoon. Love is building a surprise patio for her 40th birthday and still not complaining when the capping was not attached ten years later. Their love endures the cheese making and the cleaning flashcards.Their love is a love that never makes Shepard's Pie and will always go halves in a beer.
I count their love to be up there with the great loves in the world - of Lizzy and Darcy, Anne and Gilbert, Ron and Hermione. But unlike all my other role models for the perfect relationship, I have had these two wonderful people sitting with me at the dinner table all my life, showing that true love can be enduring and beautiful and, what the world needs to remember most - possible.
And maybe this is the reason that I am rather content with my current single status, because I know that there could be no one night stand in the world that will live up to the love that I witness everyday and that if it is out there, something will happen to make sure he steals my shoe.
Kathleen x
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