At the end of last year, my parents celebrated fifty years of marriage.
Fifty years is a long time.
My parents have eleven kids, so their fifty years of marriage has probably felt like 100.
We, their darling eleven children, threw them a party at the beginning of the year. While it was nothing extravagant (my mom hates being the center of attention) it was so special that I wanted to share it here.
We had fun with the gold balloons. Some helium-inhaling may have been involved.
Their cake was a replica of the one at their wedding. The cake topper is the original.
Baby Blue-Eyes might possibly have stuck her fingers in the frosting for a little taste before the cake was cut.
Shout out to my sister-in-law for all her hard work on the food.
That "50" is made out of family pictures. Awesome ones from way back in the day when none of us knew how to dress or comb our hair (not that we necessarily know how to do that now). We may have laughed at a picture of a certain sibling picking her nose.
She denies it.
We know it's true.
I don't think my parents could have possibly imagined, 50 years ago, the legacy they would leave behind.
Their children (minus one)...
and their grandchildren.
And that's not even all of them.
It's a beautiful thing.
My parents' marriage hasn't been perfect. There were times as a kid when I wondered if it would even last. But through the rocky times they have taught me that two people in love, devoted to God and each other, can make it through anything.
My mom also taught me that there are some things in a marriage that just aren't worth fighting over.
It was the best piece of marriage advice I ever received.
So here's to my parents, and 50 years of cooking, vacuuming, scolding, hugging, bandaging, driving, reading, cherishing, teaching, holding, wiping, scrubbing, crying, laughing, loving, and a whole lot more "ings." You guys are amazing.
I sure do love these people,
The Brown-Eyed Girl