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Back in the 80s, Mom wore her hair long and curly, halfway down her back, my sister and I thought she looked like a princess. Every Sunday she would put on a beautiful dress, jewelry and make up. We would watch in awe. In church we would feel proud to sit by her side. I would hold her hand during the sermon, and trace her long red fingernails with my finger. Then I would let my finger travel down to her wedding ring and pressing down, circle the protruding diamond with wonder. The wedding ring. Such a small item that meant so very many important things. We knew the ring meant safety and love for all of us. Daddy loved Mommy so much he bought her a beautiful diamond. How we loved to look at it! Our beautiful Mommy, with her long princess hair and a diamond ring to boot! Her rank among Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and Snow White was secured in our minds.

The role of Prince Charming belonged to only one man in our lives. Hands down, our Daddy won the title without question. Tall and lanky, with a wonderful smile and a great sense of humor. We loved him to distraction. He was our protector, our hero, our teacher, our friend. When he walked in the door at the end of the day, Mom would run into his arms and he would sweep her up in a great hug. It didn't matter that two little girls were giggling at them from behind the couch. Mom wouldn't leave Dad's arms until she had been thoroughly kissed. I'm glad that they always kissed in front of us. It made us feel happy and safe, knowing that they loved each other and that they loved us together. Its no wonder that whenever I think about them, in my mind, I see a happy couple, kissing each other in the doorway of a home brimming to the shingles with love and giggles.

I've watched my parents grow up together. I was six years old when Dad celebrated his 30th birthday. I watched them buy a home, build a business, struggle with finances, travel the world, and hold their grandchildren for the first time. I remember when my Dad left us for a few months to work in South Carolina after Hurricane Hugo. My Mom seemed so scared and worried. She knew very little about running a house and finances all by herself. But she did it. She triumphed over those months of single parenthood.

A few years later, Dad's business was just off the ground when Hurricane Andrew hit. We spent the night in the hall bathroom with our dogs. The next evening, huddled together at the dining room table, surrounded by complete and total darkness, Dad told us he would be very very busy for a few years. He laid it all out on the table for us, we knew what to expect in the coming months. It was a very hard time, but our little family pulled through. There was still laughter and love in abundance. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed when I think of all that they sacrificed for us. Even more so when I remember that they never lost sight of each other during even the bleakest of times.

My parents loved us enough to always put their marriage first. A great lesson for my sister and I. Today I am remembering you both. The way Dad would take Mom in his arms and dance around the kitchen, singing a romantic song for her ears only. Playing at the park with you both. Driving home from the beach in the steamy hot car, everyone's toes gritty with sand and our hearts humming the happiness of being together. Today in my mind, I am hiking up a North Carolina mountain with you. We are watching wales in Alaska. I am pretending to roll my eyes while you kiss in front of every major monument during our European vacation. I am watching you leave for your anniversary dinner date. Mom looks so beautiful and Dad looks so proud of her. I am watching you both dance at my wedding, with tears in your eyes, celebrating a job well done and years well spent.

Happy Anniversary Mommy and Papito. Thank you for the great love you have for each other. It has made our lives a joy.