Where there is love, there is hope.
And where there's hope, there's love.
I think about the former, and I am reminded by my parents. Next month, they'll celebrate 37 years of marriage. That's a monumental number when I recall how they have overcome medical calamities, the upheaval of moving (at least six times, by my count), financial scrapes and differences of personal perspective.
Not to mention raising yours truly (and my two lovely sisters).
The thing about my parents is that they love with laughter.
Both intelligent in their own right (my dad has an incredible mind for business and marketing; my mom is solid on matters of depth and cerebral culture), they've long learned how to make fun of the littlest things. It's those inside jokes and moments of silliness that have helped them weather the darkest depths of their relationship.
With their love, they've always held on to hope for tomorrow.
I think about my own life, and how hopeful I am. Hopeful to find love, hopeful to share my life with someone, hopeful for all of humanity's blessings.
As I hold on to my own hope, I know my heart is ready to blossom. I'm ready to celebrate the good times - and weather the rough ones - with someone who matters to me.
On Valentine's Day, as many others write words of love to their sweetheart, I write words of love to myself.
And I also think about how much my parents love each other, and hold tight to the hope I'll find my own Funny Valentine.
Kate's Random Musings by Kate the Great is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
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