There was once a Man. Tall, Dark and Handsome. He got married to a beautiful woman, petite, willowy, with hair as black as the darkest of nights. They were ‘arranged’ to meet, designed to marry.
And marry they did. Because they wanted to. And stars conspired with the two to finally join them in matrimony. They had the usual relationship, the usual ups and the usual downs. It was the ‘regularity’ of their relationship that made theirs so ‘extraordinary’. The man was the life of the party. The woman, the anchor in the sea. The man always had a story to tell. The woman always had the time to listen. They constantly updated themselves to stay in tune with the times. And they took care to stay the same, to give comfort in the ever shifting times.
As time went by, jobs changed, careers grew, there were different cities and different houses, kids happened and the family tree began to sprout new leaves. Houses turned into homes and new traditions were born; annual vacations, festivals, all took on a new meaning.
This man and this woman somewhere along the line forgot their own identities. They poured so much of themselves into their family and each other, it was hard to seem them as anything else but as the ‘husband’, the ‘wife’, the ‘father’ or the ‘mother’. All their priorities shifted and they forgot to put themselves on the list. However, life was good to them. They were happy and had all that they ever needed. And even if the lows were low and highs not so high, they quite comfortably swam on against the tide. If he began to go under, she would pull him right up. And if she began to despair, he had the right joke.
Joke they did. He always made fun of her cooking. She always laughed the loudest. The years went on and the kids grew up. They had the usual relationship too, a too strict dad, a very gullible mom. Dad with his ridiculous curfews, mom with her million concerned questions. Dad a tyrant with all the male ‘friends’ and mom on a quest to be a best friend after being inspired by countless novels. Both so misguided.
For a while. And then the kids appreciated the bond. The closeness. The fact that they were just a phone call away. And finally they began to see ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ as a man, as a woman.
Me and my sister are lucky enough to call them ‘mom’ and ‘dad’. And we also appreciate just how much more they are, than just that!