My parents were high school sweethearts. I kind of love that I can say that.
My mom was only a few months past her 19th birthday when they got real married. My dad wasn't 21 yet.
Mom was still a few months shy of 21 when I was born.
Then two years later, Kristin came along. And all Hell broke loose. Just kidding, seester!
Considering I am pushing 30 (almost) and have a two year old daughter, it blows my mind to think of everything my parents had gone through by the time they were my age. Like most couples that manage to stay together past that 10.. 20... 30 year mark, it hasn't always been sunshine and roses. That's part of what makes me so proud of them. It doesn't take much anymore for people to throw in the towel, but my parents have gotten through the rough patches and come out better on the other side.
They've always done so much for me and Kristin but still managed to raise us to appreciate what we have. They work hard. They love their family. They've set the bar pretty high. They never complained when they had to drive six hours round trip (twice) in a weekend to bring me home from college. They never complained when I moved (meaning they helped me move) every single year from the time I graduated from high school until Sylvia was born. They never complain when I ask them to watch Sylvia when daycare is closed or I want to join Blake at a football game. The list of the things they've done for me and for my family wouldn't fit on the internet.
Five years ago, as a gift, I made a slideshow for their 25th anniversary and succeeded in making them both cry. So, Mom or Dad, if you're reading this, feel free not to watch it again. But I thought I would share it here. It goes right up to the time I met Blake, so it's a little bittersweet because it was at the end of the time when my family was just my family. It was still just the four of us, which was nice. I've been blessed to have grown up in such a tight-knit family. I hope I'm creating one of my own.