3/12/1963

He said of her often—in front of friends and other loves that she was the most beautiful woman in New York. 

Today would have been my parent’s 52nd wedding anniversary. 

They lived together for 10 years before getting hitched. They lived together, they fought, made up, fought, separated, got back together, fought, carried on with others, separated—permanently. 

But they loved and always. And after the hurt. They were friends—best friends. There probably wasn’t a day that went by—they didn’t speak. Nobody made him crazier, than her. They didn’t live together, but couldn’t live without each other. 

And, so, remained married. Towards the end, in front of everyone, he told her, “you were the love of my life”.

Some things, like love, are eternal.