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f-luerist:

rosyy-vibes:

♡ rosy blog! following back similars ♡

My instagram: @SabrinaaMorgan

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  • People on the internet: Omg! You're so pretty and nice! Someone would be lucky to have you!
  • People in real life: Here comes the awkward whale.

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mexkid1:

#loyalty #relationships

greetingsfromwawa:

When I was a kid, my dad would often yell “BOOP!” at my mom while she was sweeping dirt from the kitchen floor into a dustpan.  It started out as their inside joke, but after awhile, I caught on that it was his way of telling her he liked her butt.  He would be sitting at the kitchen table, eating fried eggs, engrossed in the newspaper, and the minute she bent down, he’d yell “BOOP!” and a smile would cross his face.  My mom would shake her head, eventually giving way to her own radiant smile.  And then they would both laugh uncontrollably.  It was a sight to behold. 

My mom and dad were completely and madly in love.  Their love was so strong, it seemed like it could transcend anything.  And every single day of my young life, I knew this.  I saw it in the way they joked with each other.  In the kiss that my dad gave my mom every day when he left for work and when he returned home.  In the way they always supported and challenged each other to be better people.  In their independence and their interdependence.  In their patient and loving co-parenting of three children.  In their mutual commitment to experiencing joy every single day of their lives.  In their weekly date nights.  And in the way they looked at each other like no one else in the world existed.   

They met at a bar in smalltown Wisconsin.  Legend has it, my mom knew my dad was “trouble” from the start and she tried to escape his advances, but eventually fell for his charm.  As the way things go in our (very fertile) family, my mom became pregnant with my brother before a wedding date was ever discussed.  So in February 1975, my parents tied the knot.  And they spent the next 17 years head over heels. 

Last month, my mom and dad would’ve been married 38 years.  And an overwhelming part of me would love to see them as empty nesters, continuing the journey of life together.  Instead, we lost them early, when a drunk driver took their lives just over 20 years ago.  But when that happened, in the midst of so much heartbreak and chaos, one thing was clear: They were meant to go TOGETHER.  One of them walking on this planet without the other wouldn’t have been right.  Their love transcended everything.  Even death.

I once read that a perfect marriage is just two imperfect people refusing to give up on each other.  And that’s the truth my mom and dad knew and lived every day.  They were two people who understood their own humanity, but they also understood love. They took the time and effort to give love to each other without hesitation or conditions.  They nurtured it and with each new day, it grew.  And thanks to them, 38 years later, their kind of love — filled with imperfection and intention and a lot of elbow grease — continues to be my true north on the compass of life.

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