I arrived home from work today and found Dad sad.
He had been reading his old letters to Mum. There was a lovely poem in one.
It was true love between my Mum and Dad, but not because of the poetry.
It wasn't perfect, it wasn't sudden. It required a lot, like heaps, of work and compromise.
Mum was a young Portuguese woman, who had been ill, marrying a widowed older man with a son...In a different country. But I know from the stories and I can see in the photos that there was always laughter and friendship. There was also a solid 12 months of serious wooing on my Dads part :)
I am not sure what it felt like from their point of view...but I can give my own perspective, a kids perspective, on why I knew it was love.
Nick names, they had many and varied nick names for each other, a constantly evolving list, some serious and some funny. Like "Nudibranch". It was the nickname Dad used for Mum when she "streaked" to the bathroom. She did this a lot.
Every morning and every evening they greeted each other with a kiss, every morning Dad made mum breakfast or at least coffee.
They laughed at each other. Mum did many funny and crazy things.
Dad also copped his fair share from Mum. When Dad was younger and rocked an awesome moustache, he looked a lot like John Cleese. Mum and Dad went to see "A fish called Wanda" in the cinema. Apparently Mum spent most of the time pointing at Dad and then pointing at the screen and losing it with laughter, so much so that Dad got up and left the cinema. They were real.
They knew each other, faults and all. Dad would never stop Mum, no one could anyway. But right or wrong, Dad would let Mum go and do her own things and was always there to pick up any pieces. Mum, conversely supported Dad and through all the ups and downs they were always, always on the same team.
Compromise. Mum liked to eat chinese take away from the Fremantle markets on the weekend. Dad loved to listen to classical music and read the paper. The result was that every Saturday we would get takeaway and sit in the car at the South Mole in freo, listening to Dads music and watching the ocean, while he read the paper. One of my favourite memories, is sitting in the backseat with the calvin and hobbes comics and a whopper.....
Mum once said that Dad was her "safe". No matter what she had done or how ill she became, she knew that Dad would be there for her and help her. Nobody knew her better.
I didn't realise how lucky I was to have them as my example of marriage.
Now I am sad. This weekend is Mothers Day and also My Mums Birthday. This is for the lady who taught me what love is.
