Giddy-Stupid

My parents were something else. They met when my mother was barely twenty-one and married about six months later. That was 1958, and until 2023, when she left this world behind, they were inseparable. 

 She was his Number One fan. He was her protector and resident genius. According to her, he could solve any problem mathematical or philosophical.  

 He traveled often for his career, always out-of-state and often out-of-the-country. When she would receive that phone call telling her when to pick him up at the airport, she would get positively giddy stupid. All aflutter, she'd touch up her makeup, giggling a little, smiling so brightly. Even into her eighties, when she came into where he was, the first thing she did was go straight to him and greet him with a kiss.

Don't get me wrong; they fought quite often and very loudly, especially before menopause. He would do something she viewed as insensitive and she wouldn't let it go. Once or twice, she even threatened divorce. But it all would be better in a day or two.

 It's a wonderful thing to grow up in a home with two parents who truly and deeply love each other.  My parents were still in love with each other. Sometimes as an adult, I told them to "get a room" just to remind them others were present and to tone it down a notch. 

 While it is cute and enviable to be raised by folks who are like that, it is a bit of a double edged sword.  You see how it should be. Unfortunately,  that kind of relationship is difficult to find and even harder to maintain.