In Spanish class the other day we were talking about our parents and what our growing up years were like. I shared how my parents were still married after all these years. And how by some miracle they still have a happy marriage.
The first time I met and became close to people who came from broken home lives was in college. I knew people in high school of course but was mostly close to people who also came from stable homes and strong marriages. It occurred to me then that although my parents certainly weren’t perfect they did a wonderful job at providing stability for my brother and me.
There have been several times since when it has been reinforced that not many people come from stable homes like my brother and I did. My teacher remarked that probably one of the reasons I felt marriage could indeed be a good thing was that I saw one growing up. She couldn’t be more right.
To be sure, anyone can have a strong marriage, especially if that marriage is based on Christ. Steffani and I do have an extra advantage though in the sense that we both saw healthy marriages growing up.
I’m sure both sets of our parents had several of what my mom lovingly refers to as ‘discussions.’ Overall though, they provided a home in every sense of the word. A safe place for both of us to express ourselves and grow up.
Even to this day, I enjoy watching my parents when we’re around them. The wisecracks my dad makes with the subsequent hit in the gut he gets from my mom. My mom messing with dad’s hair after church just to drive him nuts and it never failing to drive him nuts. Every. Single. Time.
I stand on shoulders you understand. I am incredibly grateful for my parents and everyone else who has poured life into me. They are all an incredible inspiration.
The best I can hope for is to live a life similar to my Grandpa’s. Where at the end of it all, I leave a huge hole in people’s lives. The kind of life where more than 6 years after my passing someone weeps at the memory of the impact I had on their lives.
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