The place is familiar where we put mutual loves ahead of our own. The first time they were infants and toddlers. There were magazines and support groups and advice for novices and commiseration with other new parents. We understood it was just for a time, and we were eager. We were young and buoyant.
This morning, I descended the stairs quietly at 6:15 dressed for work already, folded three loads, and washed last night's dishes. When I left, I turned the kitchen light off and said goodbye to no one in particular. I heard the kids, up now, getting dressed for another day of middle school and high school. You were still asleep because you always wait up for a son who comes home from work at 11:30 on a weeknight wanting to talk. I love you for this. I miss you for it too.
There are no support groups to help us now. We might just be a minority, you and me, parents of teenagers that are still married to each another. I'm in need of Can't Remember Our Last Night Out and POTS (parents of teenagers) International.
We've grown adept at putting the kids before the marriage. And why would we stop now, when we're so close to being finished? We're tired, but it's time to finish strong. We understand it's just for a time, and we're willing. But we're also turning gray.
We missed our anniversary last month. What do you say we celebrate it? We know sacrifice. We just didn't realize that we are worth it, too.