35 years.
Today would have been my parents’ 35th wedding anniversary. My mom would have come home and laid on her bed/couch and watched TV. Dad would have come home with some high-end food from the grocery store, such as lobster, for the occasion. He would have come into the den and said, “Look what I got for dinner tonight! Lobster! Good lookin’ devils, aren’t they?”, trying to strike up some liveliness/interest in my mom. She would have been expressionless and indifferent-seeming as she always is, but would secretly appreciate the gesture. After cooking up the dinner, Dad would start the movie he brought home from the video store, and then bring in the lobster on collapsible tray tables to her. He’d sit in a chair next to her and start eating as well. “Mmm, good. Can’t get this at McDonald’s, eh ‘Yem’?” Mom would keep her eyes down on her plate, maybe nod a little bit, silent. But would keep her concentration on eating. The only thing she might have said was, “A little bit salty.” He would say, “I’ve got another 2 in the pot, just for you! Ready for another?” And she wouldn’t answer, but he would bring it in anyway, and she’d tear into them too. That was their dance, their routine. Her Asian way.
They dated for 7 years before they married. So when he passed away, they had been together for 41 years. Today would have marked 42.
I had those Asian lilies that M gave me also sent to her. Mine are still blooming (one or two blooms are finally dying), pungent, and beautiful. However, with all the flooding going on in Houston, I hope that it arrives today. The card reads, “Mom, just thinking of you on this day. Love, J”.
My dad would have also called me up to tell me to wish my mom a happy anniversary–“because she doesn’t like it when I say it, but she likes it when you do. You know how your mom is.”
Sigh. They didn’t have a perfect love, but they had a real love. It’s something I treasure so much about my mom and dad.
