Lazy W Marie

she is full of freedom

March 18, 2021

On March 6, 2020, Kellie Sperry went with friends Roanne and Rose to the Lauren Daigle concert in Oklahoma City (it turned out to be the second to last live concert Daigle performed before shut down). The night was filled with inspiration, emotional release, and some much needed connection to God and faith and peace. That next week was when the Thunder basketball game emptied out before tipoff and everything changed overnight.

A licensed counselor by trade, Kellie’s already heavy job was about to take on brand new weight. Add to that, the traumatic ending of her marriage of almost 25 years, and everything was in flux.”Flux is the story of my life,” she claimed peacefully.

To borrow her metaphor: When a person’s life is turned upside down and all the contents tumble out of so many boxes all over the floor, it is messy. Decades’ worth of memories, habits, effort, fear, values, hopes and dreams, loves and hurts, plans and mistakes and victories and so many other things, are strewn about in unpredictable, sometimes startling new shapes and piles. Some forgotten things are exposed to the light of day in new ways. Some things are beaten and crumpled a bit more than others, maybe shattered beyond repair; some things need to be either purged forever or dusted off , polished, and quickly put back in order. Many things can wait while the storms rage. Flux.

Kellie’s past year has been like this and then some, but she is flourishing in all the colorful chaos, despite the added layer of pandemic storms that roar all around her. Forty-five years old, newly divorced and living alone for the first time in her life, rebuilding friendships on her own terms, helping clients navigate an unprecedented time in history, she is centered in Love. She is looking honestly at the overturned boxes of her life and feeling a delicious calm, no trace of panic for all the mess, in fact, some excitement for her sense of autonomy.

“So far I’ve landed upright, and that’s all that matters. And everything else will be where I place it.” When she said where I place it, I got chills. It reminded me of the power, the responsibility, of deliberate living.

So many people are in flux.

Without a doubt, this past
year has taken a toll on people’s mental health. Groups and individuals of
every variety, everywhere, have been pushed to new thresholds and challenged in
ever compounding ways. Historically, this pandemic may even surpass the OKC
bombing and the 9/11 attacks, due to its global scale, sustained force, and ongoing
traumas. “This is unprecedented,” she said, more than once. And for
the first time in her career, counselors were walking their patients through
trauma that, largely, they themselves were also facing. “Both of us are
coping with the same stressors,” she said, a weirdly unique situation.

The pandemic has made it clear that mental health isn’t just about what happens in therapy sessions—it’s about the daily rituals, the self-care practices, and the holistic approaches that help people regain balance in a world that often feels unsteady. For many, this means turning to alternative therapies that complement traditional mental health treatments, providing an additional layer of healing and resilience.

One such approach gaining attention is acupuncture. Rooted in ancient Chinese medicine, acupuncture has long been used to address physical ailments, but its benefits for mental health are just as profound. By targeting specific points in the body, acupuncture helps regulate the nervous system, reduce stress hormones, and promote relaxation—something desperately needed in a time of heightened anxiety.

Those searching for acupuncture near me are often looking for relief from chronic stress, insomnia, and even depression, seeking a way to quiet the mental noise that has only grown louder over the past year. As people explore new methods of self-care, acupuncture offers a gentle yet effective way to restore equilibrium, helping individuals find moments of peace amid the ongoing uncertainties of modern life.

Her group practice made the switch to Telehealth (remote counseling
sessions) around March 24th. This of course brought its own inherent challenges, but overall Kellie describes it as, “an extraordinarily rewarding and more intimate” setting. She misses the intimacy of sharing physical space with and reading body language and energy from her clients; but that has been traded for glimpses into their homes, quick appearances from pets and toddlers and partners, not to mention her own physical safety and comfort in her newly feathered, solo nest. It is all “complicated, beautiful, challenging, and rewarding.”

However, the move to Telehealth does raise questions for those interested in starting their own mental health practice. For anyone wondering how do i start a mental health business, the shift to virtual services has created both opportunities and challenges. Starting a mental health business today requires an understanding of the technology involved, how to maintain client confidentiality in an online space, and how to build a strong rapport without in-person interaction. With the right tools and approach, though, Telehealth can offer a unique way to connect with clients while ensuring their safety and comfort, both physically and emotionally.

How wonderful that our society is changing its outlook on mental health! How wonderful that more of us are seeking therapy in proactive ways, without the old stigmas, as an integral part of our human experience.

This year, of course, many people are seeking help to cope directly with, well, all of 2020, including but certainly not limited to the virus itself. Kellie and her colleagues have seen a dramatic uptick in anxiety disorders and trauma responses. People have been stirred up by the political divide and social unrest. There is just a lot to process, and most people’s mental health has fluctuated wildly all year long. All of that is normal. In fact, Kellie hopes we can normalize talking about our feelings more, acknowledging them, and seeking to understand each other better. “I am okay, even though…” is a phrasing exercise she shared with me. She even bravely suggested that we face all our fears and express gratitude for what we discover in the pit, when we land there sometimes. Because we don’t stay there, and we can learn from it.

That kind of honest emotional inventory—“I am okay, even though…”—is more than just a coping mechanism; it’s a gentle reminder that strength and struggle can coexist. Anxiety doesn’t need a dramatic reason to show up. Sometimes it’s loud, sometimes it hums quietly beneath the surface, but it’s always real. And for many, the rollercoaster of recent years has magnified its presence, bringing suppressed emotions to the forefront.

Therapy becomes essential in these moments, not just as a crisis intervention, but as a form of self-respect. And with online counselling becoming more widely available, support is now more accessible than ever. It means people can connect with professionals from the safety and comfort of their own space—whether that’s during a lunch break, after the kids are asleep, or in the middle of a sleepless night.

This ease of access matters, because when anxiety feels overwhelming, even getting out the door can be too much. Online platforms remove that barrier, giving more people the chance to process, heal, and grow—without needing to wait for the perfect moment. Healing, after all, often begins in the mess, not the miracle.

Besides counseling, what can people do to improve their mental and emotional well being?

Kellie advocates strongly for physical activity, not just for the obvious bodily rewards but also for “how it impacts mental health.” I asked her how much we need, and she answered swiftly, “As much as you can get.” She mentioned again the widespread prevalence this year of anxiety, depression, grief, and trauma; and she affirmed that moving your body can help with all of those ailments. Her own regimen has been a steady dose of walking every day (in the sun as often as possible) and attending Orange Theory. “OT Fitness is a gift,” she said blissfully. The gyms were closed for several months, of course, but now she is attending classes three or four times per week and loves it. She loves it for the endorphins and the muscle conditioning, and she loves it for how it helps her release pent up emotion. She also values the community there, all of which contribute to her overall well being.

She and I commiserated on other basic human needs like drinking lots of water, practicing good nutrition, seeking sunshine in all kinds of ways, and feeding true human connections. Connection is a big one, kind of a headline this year. “Go deep or go home,” she said, smiling and shrugging. The value of deep interpersonal connection is huge. We all have felt its absence then enjoyed its happy return, maybe this past year more than ever. Cultivate it in your life.

Kellie also urges everyone to consider what self care looks like, specifically to you. Be honest with yourself, test your instincts and hone them over time, then go ahead and tend to your needs. It’s ok. Maybe learn about the characteristics of introverts, extroverts, and ambiverts. The best self care you provide “will come from a place of truly knowing yourself” and “noticing the moment, being truly present in it.”

I wanted to hear some details about Kellie’s personal pandemic memories. Her favorite stress snacks were miniature chocolate-peanut butter cups from Trader Joe’s. Yes, she always had more than enough toilet paper. Yes, she started a new hobby, gardening, though that is an example of how pandemic woke her from what she called “sleep walking.” She had been craving to start a garden for years, but a brief inkling of food scarcity in the grocery stores plus an abundance of time at home finally prompted her to just start. Yes, her first garden was beautiful and rewarding, and she plans to continue! Yes, she did plenty of baking, but more batches of cookies than loaves of bread, as she is still getting acquainted with the unfamiliar counter space in her new home. Did her view of essential work evolve over this past year? “I love the UPS drivers. I want to say thank you so much for working!”

And yes, she too is weary. She is weary of missing people, of missing community. Pandemic woke her up to many values, perhaps chief of which is that of defaulting to “Love my neighbor.” She has struggled with how some Christians resist masks and assert their beliefs in unloving, selfish ways.

Kellie is more intentional these days and is working to squash some people pleasing tendencies, choosing instead to listen to her gut and live authentically as much as possible. This has been empowering, and she does not bemoan the process. “Pain makes us grow,” she observed.

Kellie is in such a wondrous stage of metamorphosis, I wanted to capture the moment while anticipating what might come next. I asked her for a message she would give to her future self. She took a deep, calming breath then said, “Be present. Listen. Have fun. Chase sunshine! And Love your neighbors.”

Amen, my beautiful friend.

“I am full of freedom.”
~Kellie, November 2019
XOXOXOXO

pandemic honeymoon

March 17, 2021

Please meet two of the warmest, steadiest, most fun and truly loving people in Oklahoma, Tom and Raylene Harrison. They are parents to one of our best friends Meredith, grandparents to my little garden buddy Maddie, and regulars at the annual Lazy W Talent Shows, among other events. They were kind enough last week to share their pandemic memories and insights with me, and I am so thankful. Enjoy!

Before the novel corona virus arrived in Oklahoma, Tom Harrison was “not at all” aware of it. His wife Raylene had caught a report about it on the CBS morning news but was not worried. They were busy about their lives, volunteering in the community, working in their small church, and loving their big, beautiful, multi-generational family. In early March, 2020, the Harrisons remember doing things like enjoying a Saint Patrick’s Day-themed Bunco party and attending a Master Gardeners’ board meeting in Oklahoma City. Their daughter Renee and her husband John had just celebrated their wedding anniversary. These would be the last normal feeling events in the Harrisons’ life that year.

Together with seven other devoted people, the Harrisons lead the First Christian Church of OKC, which is housed at the locally famous “egg church” on northwest 36th street and connected to the Jewel Box Theater. They boast a small congregation centered on serious, joyful love and unqualified acceptance. “We like quality over quantity,” Tom quipped cheerfully. And I believe him.

Their Sunday morning service on March 15, 2020, is when things began to seem different. The threat of the virus felt real, so they reluctantly announced that morning that it would be their last church gathering for a while. They quickly reorganized to accommodate the roughly 50 members with phone contact, mail outs, and online service. Tom and three of his colleagues continued working at the church office for a while, getting everything set up.

With church plans tucked in and underway, the Harrisons turned their attention to quarantine preparedness at home and to caring for Raylene’s then 93 year old mother (she turned 94 this recent January). At her adult daughters’ urging, Raylene began shopping for groceries exclusively online, disinfecting all surfaces, and avoiding public gatherings. As the limited science filtered in about covid-19, their biggest mission became clear: Keep Mom safe and healthy. She lives near them, in her own home, and is thankfully healthy and vibrant. They were determined to keep it that way.

I was entranced listening to Raylene share her own Mom’s memories of the polio scare when Raylene was a toddler. She reports that they faced “antivaxxers” then too, and that yes, even then, without the internet, the masses found ways to politicize public health. The social divide was very real. She herself had no vaccine hesitation, no fear then or now. “We’ll get through this, we’ll persevere,” she assured Raylene, who in turn assured me.

I was curious how pandemic affected their day to day life, how their eating habits changed, how they spent their free time, how they communicated. They indulged all my curiosities and then some.

As for their quarantine diet, Tom nodded slowly as he announced rather matter of factly and without a trace of regret that they have made “very little effort to be wise.” His dryness about it all actually made me laugh, whether it was meant to or not, ha! He said they enjoyed lots of mashed potatoes and gravy, biscuits and gravy, and plenty of their favorite homemade desserts. Comfort food, though, not stress snacks, because there is a difference. Though Raylene did not herself join the sourdough craze, a friend of hers kept their house full of fresh baked bread, and in June they received a porch delivery of homemade cinnamon rolls. So, yes, they ate really well.

Tom and Raylene have always been avid restaurant goers and are movie buffs, favoring actual brick and mortar cinemas in normal times. This year they have missed eating at places like The Red Cup (on north Classen, a really nice little vegan coffee shop!) and an Italian spot on Paseo called Picasso’s. In fact, Picasso’s might be their first restaurant visit when everything feels safe again. They have only been to a movie theater twice this year: Once to see Tenet (Tom neither liked it nor got it) and once with their grandson to see Croods 2 (more on that later).

Thankfully, though once Tom was briefly exposed to the wife of a positive-testing congregation member, both of the Harrisons remained healthy and covid-free all year, as did Raylene’s Mom. During the incubation period for Tom’s possible infection, Raylene spent fourteen days at her Mom’s house and cared for her there. They couldn’t risk both of them being sick at once. She also stayed with her Mom for nine days during the blizzard.

Their physical health only suffered a little, with regard to stamina and very minor weight gain (same here). But gardening season always helps (yep). Raylene loves to stay active and predicts big improvements to her vitality this spring and summer. In addition to this, Tom was honest about his mental health, admitting that it went backwards for a time, wondering aloud if maybe he enjoyed being alone a little too much (again, me too!). “There is a sense of relief from obligations,” he said, “but that can lead to too much isolation.”

Both the Harrisons are civic minded and generous to a fault, so I have no doubt that when they are ready, their calendars will fill up again. But how much, and how fast? Raylene said gently, “We want to have some control” and that they will “enjoy doing what is not a burden.” (Gosh this is a great reminder for me.)

They absolutely managed to adapt, choosing to have fun and see all their new challenges as opportunities. Normally Tom is responsible for one sermon per month at their church. During shut downs and remote worship services, he employed all kinds of graphics, music, and other technological wonders to spice up his messages. He rarely showed his face but had lots of fun being creative and engaging members who might not normally feel comfortable with online church. He used old music recordings, too, and to date the community has not missed a single Sunday service. They may even continue some of their multimedia efforts after they return to traditional gatherings.

For such a tightly knit family, centered around Choctaw and Shawnee, how did the Harrison clan stay connected all year? Well, they just did their best. They worked to “meet them where they are” as Raylene described it, which is also their approach at church.

They missed each other dearly and especially missed out on connecting with the grandkids. But they made efforts to talk on the phone more, use social media, and be creative as the months wore on and the changes and challenges persisted.

In June, Tom and Raylene opened their gorgeous backyard for a masked, well distanced family gathering, sans food or drink. They all just needed to see each other. It was the only such gathering all year, and Raylene shared that she cried after everyone left.

Then in August, 2020, when Oklahoma was baking beneath the summer sun, indifferent to the pandemic, and everyone was exhausted from, well, everything, Raylene was inspired to try something new. Her brother Jerry was in hospice care for stage four cancer, and the pain of not being able to see him was enormous for everyone, especially for their matriarch, who had been safely quarantined all year. Raylene consulted with Tom and her sister to plan a trip to Branson. They announced the idea to Mom, who needed little convincing. The heartbreak of not being with Jerry was somewhat lessened by a deliberate choice to be together in a safe way, and in a new environment for just a few days. It was less a vacation than a family retreat, a few days of grieving and safe harbor, together. They felt “blessed to be together.” Jerry passed away on September 1st.

For Thanksgiving, everyone ate at their respective homes, then they hosted a family game night on Zoom. The next month their nine year old grandson chose to quarantine himself for two weeks in order to safely visit his grandparents for three days at Christmas. To make it special, the trio found the movie Croods 2 playing in OKC. They were the only people in the theater, and they had a blast!

Tom and Raylene have been married for 32 years. I was really excited about our Zoom conversation, eager to listen to their stories and glean how this bizarre time in history might have affected such a well established couple. First, a few observations from me: They never interrupted or over spoke each other. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, they glanced and smiled at each other almost constantly. They told the same stories, together in harmony, without exactly finishing each other’s sentences. I heard lots of sweet “yeps” and “vice-versas” from Tom and saw many slow, gentle nods from Raylene, both of them smiling.

I finally asked them directly how pandemic affected their marriage. I loved that they were both willing to explore that. They agreed that they are both good listeners by nature, which made an unusually quiet year seem extra quiet. But? They didn’t necessarily see that as a bad thing. They seemed to enjoy the opportunity to talk more with just each other, to make even better connections. They agreed to feeling closer to each other now than they did one year ago, which they both found reassuring. (Note to young couples: Even after 32 years you can grow closer and discover new depth in your union. You can also still need these things more than you realize.)

Like Tom, Raylene confessed to liking the massive shed of obligations. They had been keeping pretty hectic schedules prior to shut downs, even deep into retirement, volunteering and staying active in the community. To fill their new wealth of free time, they did a handful of fun home improvement projects. They de-cluttered everywhere. They relocated their dining table and chairs to a more spacious room. They painted one half of the rooms in their house, added a custom wooden beam mantelpiece to their fireplace, and continued doting on Raylene’s extensive indoor garden, which miraculously survived our insane winter.

They nested! They had a little pandemic honeymoon, and they nested.

Also? How delightful to learn that these smart, community minded, deeply loving, spiritually alert people were not above some indulgent television watching during pandemic. The shows they remembered easily were The Crown, The Queen’s Gambit, and Cobra Kai. Lots of Netflix, but no bingey repeats, which is a detail that sets them apart.

Talking to Raylene, I felt like I benefitted from a secondhand conversation with her 94 year old mother, too. She has a warm steadiness about her, a pragmatic spirit which she has imparted to her entire family (her granddaughter Meredith is one of my best friends so I am an expert in this matter). She seems to understand that energy is something you can choose spend, so why waste it on things you cannot control? She (and, accordingly, Tom & Raylene) teaches an appreciation for quality of life. How beautiful that she also is enjoying longevity.

Today, the Harrison clan is healthy and almost fully vaccinated. Going forward, they expect to be more of aware of infectious diseases in general. They are open to wearing masks in some situations, too. No surprise to me that Tom and Raylene managed to unearth humor and love in this exceptional year. They left me with simple advice: “We’re all in this together. You don’t have to say everything you think. Just think about your audience, who you’re saying it to.”

There’s room for everyone at the table. Walk in love. And go ahead and have something with gravy.

“We’re all in this together.”
XOXOXOXO

romance right now

February 14, 2021

Happy Valentine’s Day, friends! Is your romantic celebration looking different this year? Ours definitely is. And I actually love it.

My husband has been working extraordinary hours this month. His normal Commish responsibilities, plus the weight of legislative season, all compounded by the ongoing complex problems brought to the utility industries by this crazy weather… The man is giving it all, 24/7. Although we have been together at the farm pretty solid since mid March of last year, these recent weeks he has felt a bit absent. Even when he emerges from his upstairs office, he is barraged with phone calls, texts, emails, and ongoing new emergencies at all hours of the day, every day. We never know how much down time we are going to enjoy together.

This may sound a bit grueling for our marriage, like a low key complaint, but that’s not at all how I mean it.

Not only am I immensely proud of the work he does, and the fact that he is happy to pour himself into it, but also I see a few beautiful daily constants remain for us:

We always drink coffee together in the morning; we never miss dinner together; and we always go to bed at the same time. There are plenty more sweet, unexpected ribbons of time together throughout each day, for which I am thankful, but the other day it struck me that those three rituals seem to be non negotiable. What a gift.

I am thankful that we have such a well established rhythm and harmony, so we can absorb disruptions of every variety and remain in step. I am thankful that our feelings come from somewhere deep, like abundant well water, rather than from intermittent rainfall. We can keep up with shifting circumstances, and I love that.

This snapshot was taken in the French Quarter at a very cool little artists’ walk we both love. He was refusing to let me smooch him like I wanted to. Then he grabbed me and held me up in the air. xoxo

For posterity, I feel like documenting what romance looks like this Valentine’s weekend, in pandemic, during an historic winter storm, while my man is purely exhausted from his day job:

Romance in times like these can look like chopping the frozen pond and troughs several times per day.

It can look like taking overlapping conference calls in ear buds so he can drive to town and buy horse blankets because his wife is worried sick about Chanta and Dusty.

Romance can be grocery shopping together well ahead of the snowstorm and unceremoniously handing each other boxes of chocolate to take home, then laughing out loud inside our masks like it’s the best joke ever.

Romance, in fact, is laughing together every chance we get, at anything we want. It’s also watching documentaries together, and freely criticizing strangers who join cults.

Romance is trading prayer requests with each other, for the people each of us talks to separately, as well as updating each other on good news and difficult news. Romance is counting our blessings as if it is the counting of them that makes them real.

Romance turns out to be old school, crayon-decorated coupons for massages that he is too tired to give and future outings that we cannot guarantee, because the tradition is old and good and happy. Romance can be homemade brownies filled with chopped up candy bars. Steaks that are sort of shaped like hearts and layers and layers of silky, fuzzy blankets.

Romance is obsessively loving every single animal together, so much. It is wearing your black felt cowboy hat and winter coat with the upturned collar (so sexy) to gather shivering ducks so they can warm up in the bathtub and then cuddling an overly attached a cat who won’t stop fake nursing our blankets. Romance is clearing ice from horse hooves even though your sweatpants are making you crazy and your eyes hurt.

Romance is troubleshooting every single cool breeze you detect and investigating every sound that might be a troubled pipe.

Romance is checking on your friends together and being proud of the kids together.

Romance is selecting television distractions that won’t drive your wife too crazy and playing UNO even when you are dead tired and she mostly wins. : )

A different hat than he gets to wear this week, but honestly he wears them all so well.

Sometimes romance is jewelry and rose bouquets, fancy restaurant dinners and cologne. But we have no need of that stuff now.

Soon, babe, we will get dressed up, go out on the town, and maybe even travel. Until then, I am happy to get bundled up and care for the farm together.

I am so happy to cook our dinners and desserts here, take hasty hot showers to protect the septic field, and live thereafter in soft pajamas. These nine acres are paradise to me, and you make it all better. You embody all the romance in the world, and I am so glad you are still my Valentine.

NOW DRAW FOUR BITCHEZ
XOXOXOXO

an army of love & we will survive

December 31, 2020

A quick word of encouragement before we all pursue our own strange and unusual Pandemic style New year’s Eve celebrations.

This week on the treadmill I rewatched Searching For Bobby Fischer, and a scene near the end of the movie reminded me of something Jessica said this summer.

The scene was when the little boy was nearing this climactic championship chess game and nervousness had overtaken him. He was no longer playing for the love of the game (a whole other excellent topic), and he was terrified of losing to the new prodigy on the block, a very real possibility. Slowly, the camera showed us that not only had his Mom and Dad found their common ground and rallied to support him together; but also his speed chess friend from Central Park (presumably a bad iunfluence) and his more disciplined, traditional teacher (highly competitive and previously sworn off of attending touranemnts) had come together. All of them were there cheering for him, supporting him, hanging on every move, and fascinated by his magic. But the best part was that they all clearly, finally, loved him regardless of both the outcome and his methods; and all of their personalities assembled and combined to become this formidable wall of Love.

An Army of Love, is what Jessica called it back in June.

Two or three days after her Dad died, observing the constant and drenching tidal wave of support she and Jocelyn were receiving from loved ones from whom they had previously been alienated for so many long years, she said that she suddenly saw everyone as an Army of Love surrounding her and her sister. I soaked that up and told her gently that we have always been here, all along.

I believe firmly that we are, each of us, buffered and strengthened by an Army of Love; maybe we just need to look around and see it. I believe in supernatural forces that protect us, inspire us, make us better. We can survive anything. We can draw on the various strengths and gifts of the Army of Love dedicated to our well being. We can also live in ways that make us worthy of being in someone else’s Army of Love, for their survival and well being. We are made for community, and we all thrive in it.

Okay, that’s it for today. Thank you from deep in my heart for reading here all year long, friends. Thank you for sharing your stories and listening to mine, for being such strong, shimmering conduits for Love. I wish you all the very best of the coming new year. You will survive anything.

“Infect em with love”
XOXOXO

forty seven years and many more to go

October 25, 2020

On this cold and variable autumn weekend in late October, my beautiful parents are celebrating their 47th wedding anniversary. Rumor has it they stole away to their own backyard for a brief and covid-friendly date night, which is to say that they are finally getting a room. Get a room guys! hehe

My parents married especially young and had me almost immediately, then they had four more kids who were also, well, pretty good, depending on who you ask.

Genevieve, me, Angela, Philip, & Joey (not in birth order or coolness order either)

All my life our parents have been the young parents in every crowd, and I have loved it. I grew up very accustomed to my female friends having crushes on Dad and my male friends having crushes on Mom (a particular devastation, though, when I reached the age to have crushes on those boys). Moreover, I always just felt like part of them. No kids remember life without their parents; but I felt a unique sense of almost kinship or camaraderie because we were relatively close in age. Understandably, they were less advertisory about this fact to the world at large. I suppose, especially in the 1970s, people might be judgmental and have plenty to say about it. But I was always proud of them, and I still am.

Earlier this month I had the opportunity to answer a question about their youth, when I posted about Dad’s 63rd birthday. A new Facebook friend noticed the narrow age difference between Dad and me (I am 46), and I quickly confirmed it. I am never shy about this. I said that yes, they were very young when they married, and the five of us kids have been the luckiest kids ever for their love and devotion, not just to us but to each other.

Growing up with young parents was gobs of fun. They were energetic, playful, driven, attentive, hard working, and always up for every good tradition, big and small. They fed us healthy food every single meal, read aloud to us and in front of us, took us on all kinds of trips, threw countless parties, fixed our cars, made us laugh, connected us to family and friends at every turn, kept us in Catholic school whether we deserved it or not, and endured all of our adolescent weirdness and young-adult griefs. They gave us everything, most of it made from thin air, and I honestly do not know how they did it. What I do know, in my bones, is that our charmed and beautiful family life was a product of sheer will, determination and, yes, passion (get a room).

The older I get, the more I realize how lucky we are to still have our parents alive and healthy, still married, and still celebrating their anniversary in personal, unique ways. They still tease us and feed us. They still laugh hard with us and read books and ask us what we are reading. They still try to get us all together as often a possible, whether it’s a weekend cookout or a special group travel plan or, during pandemic, a family Zoom. It sometimes makes me cry thinking of how much of their human lives have been spent, literally, on us.

We have received the full force of their loving personalities for forty seven years, and now a whole batch of grandchildren are soaking it up, too. Maybe soon, great grandchildren.

Seeing Mom and Dad celebrate privately now, and seeing them enjoy their home in this brand new chapter of middle aged romance, is lusciously sweet.

The photo above is from when Mom and Dad renewed their vows in the Church. (Their first wedding was several years prior, and before Mom took her Catechism and joined.) See Mom’s wedding band on her necklace? My memory is that she and Dad both wore their bands this way for several months leading up to the ceremony. It was a very intentional second engagement, something they didn’t experience the first time around. I think about this all the time.

Mom and Dad, you never pretended like marriage has been easy, but man, you have made it look so completely worth all that was asked of you, and that is inspiring. Wildly encouraging. We might never really understand how hard it has been for you, or what you have sacrificed to be our parents. But we hope to have many decades still to say thank you and to encourage you to live life for yourselves as much as possible. Your efforts have not been in vain. I hope you feel as much joy and satisfaction, as we all feel gratitude. I hope your backyard pandemic-style anniversary celebration was romantic and happy!!

“You come from a long line of effort.”
~Mickey Sperry
XOXOXOXO

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