Love is patient. Love is kind.
Love is always boasting that you married the ideal man/woman. Love is having a wedding so damn hot you burnt the historic reception venue down. That ballroom just knew this was as good as it gets.
Love is going to Europe every year because you spent the first five years of your marriage starving on (sorry, eating) lentils. Love is being at the window at wave goodbye every morning.
Love isn’t letting the other person dream. It’s encouraging them to dream and then helping them to succeed.
Love is telling the same stories over and over again until it is impossible to take them seriously.
Love is putting up with it. Again.
Love is always making sure you can always see the other person when you’re in two cars. Because if you don’t, the other will get lost, crash or pick up a hitchhiker. This is true even if you are driving for 15 minutes in broad daylight from your mother’s house home.
Love is fighting rarely, forgiving quickly and forgetting quicker. (Except for vegetables. They’re worth a battle.)
Love is kind of being the Lily and Marshall because a) they’re adorable and b) Marshall is rather tall.
Love is grossing your kids out by making nightly kissing noises. Like all the time.
Love is planning and budgeting and saving and providing. Love is “we’ll need to check with mum/dad” before anything.
Love is taking long walks together. Love is having long meals together. Love is reading together, stretching together, gardening together, laughing together, napping together and complaining together.
Love is always giving a back rub, head rub or foot rub and God only knows what other sort of rubs.
Love is editing her thesis and listening to his songs, eating her vegetables and planting his succulents, protecting her free time and praising his food. Love is honouring the other.
Love is never criticising in front of the kids. (Unless they’re being a total idiot. Then it’s needed.) Love is being wise and then making a fool of yourself. Love is bringing out your ridiculous passport photo just to make her laugh.
Love isn’t lying to each other. But sometimes it’s lying for each other.
Love is always changing and always constant. Love is still loving after thirty years. And not being totally bummed out about the next thirty years. Because love is protecting, love is trusting, love is hoping and love is persevering.
Love never gives up.
Happy Thirtieth Anniversary mum and dad!
Filed under: Happy Thoughts Tagged: Family, Love, Marriage
