September 7th, 2010 | 4 comments | Unfiltered

Today, my parents celebrate their 29th wedding anniversary. First of all: Hi Parents! Love you! Congrats!

I’ve always been interested to hear about other people’s parents relationships and how it has affected how they approach love in their lives. For me, it’s all kinds of all over the place. This post is a little bit about what my parents taught me about love, a little bit about my anxiety about what that means, and a whole lot of respect for their relationship and how they’ve evolved and grown with each other over the years.

I’ve said since I was a little girl that if all I had in life was a love like my parents have, that I would be one happy camper. And that’s true, still, to some extent. But the capacity in which their love has grown and developed and continued over time and how that translates to my life is always changing.

I’ve said since I was a little girl that if I ever have kids, I want to have the same kind of relationship that my parents and I share. We’re wicked close and they know everything about me. Yes, everything. First-timers visiting my family either love the atmosphere or are totally and completely confused by it. The latter group never makes it for long after that. We tell each other everything, and we say I love you more than most families I’ve been around. I think the distance, fortunately or unfortunately, has made us even closer since I moved to Chicago.

Now-a-days, I’m indifferent about having kids. One, the skydiving thing has kinda taken over my life (for now) and I think I’d be hard-pressed to find a babysitter.

Babysitter: “Oh, sure Sydney, where are you guys headed?”
Me: “Oh, we’re going to go jump out of planes for the weekend.”
Babysitter: “Funny, I’m busy, something came up (insert excuse here because you don’t want to be stranded with my children in the event that something tragic happens).”

In the end: I don’t want to screw it up. I’m sure that if I decided that being a mom was something that I wanted to do, that I’d figure it out and the kids would probably turn out okay. But I’m so impressed, as I continue to get older and see friends raise kids, with how my parents raised me. Not to toot my own (or their own) horn, but we’ve got a pretty kickass relationship, and I’d like to think I turned out okay. Because of that, I have this anxiety about having a family some day – because I don’t want anything less than how we grew up.

See, my parents have raised me to believe that anything is possible, in life, in love, and everything in between. They’ve raised me to foster this ridiculous ball of energy and love that I’ll someday throw at some lucky man’s face. And the right guy will catch it and run with it and we’ll live happily ever after. Or something.

They’ve raised me to believe that somewhere out there is someone who will fall totally and completely in love with me in my finest moments: in sweatpants and t-shirt, hair up and no makeup, or dressed up for a special occasion (I clean up nice, I hear) or with my face all splotchy from an “ugly cry” or they’ll love my borderline-annoying-but-kind-of-adorable laugh. They’ve raised me to believe that I deserve nothing but the very best when it comes to love, but in order to get there, I need to love myself first, be comfortable in my own skin, and the rest will follow.

Do I want to get married and have kids and have a house with a porch and a white picket fence and all that? I don’t think so. I’m not entirely sold on any of that. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have a shit ton of love to give someone, that I won’t fully commit to being the best friend/girlfriend/wife/whatever you want to call it when that person comes waltzing into my life. I will. And if there is one thing my parents have taught me about love, is you just have to do it. It happens. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t, but in that moment, for however long it lasts, you have to give it your all. Otherwise, you’ll never know what could have happened.

I know this much: my parents defy the odds. Twenty-nine years together is a long time, no matter what you think about marriage and all that. I know this much: I want what my parents have. I can’t guarantee you’ll get me in a dress and walking down an aisle and all that, because honestly, I don’t know that it’s necessary, but I can tell you that what they have is amazing. They’re best friends, partners in crime, and they know how to get through the toughest of times and they know how to have an awesome time. And they laugh. Boy, how they make each other laugh. There is nothing better than watching my mom laugh so hard she cries because of something that happens when she’s with my dad. They’ve moved ten times, had five cats, four dogs, two daughters and now they’re finally living the dream, sans children, in Florida.

So here’s to another 29, guys. Love you, miss you, mean it!