Today my parents marked 60 years of marriage. Only six of their kids made it “home” to help celebrate (all nine made it for their 5oth anniversary).
What’s that? Yes, they’re Catholic. But we like to think there’s more to their marital longevity than the fear of eternal damnation. “1 4 3 — 7” they would write on their teenage correspondence. I guess they really meant the seven. Good for them, through thick and thin. And good for us.
And though they don’t read these Basement notes, they believe in the magical transfer of thoughts and feelings through space and time, so I’m sure they hear me say “Bravo!” (There’s always the telephone as a backup.)
