He had left home when he was 16 and traveled everywhere, anywhere, smoking weed, reading Marx and swimming in his clothes in the Pacific.
She was a hard-working girl, with her weekly visits to the hair-dresser and her love for soft music.
They met, when she was 18 and he was 20. She tought he was a funny guy, he was always making her laugh. He thought she was the prettiest girl in the whole world.
She got pregnant. He told her that he didn’t want to marry (marriage was so institutional), she cried a little.
They ended up getting married (so much for anarchy), and soon they had more children than they knew what to do with them.
They had their share of difficult times—he was impulsive and stubborn; she was emotional and would overly worry about everything.
But then they had their good times, so many of them!
By now they’ve been married for over 30 years, and have an army of children and grandchildren.
She is as hard-working as ever, he still likes to read.
Sometimes when everyone is home and there are too many mouths to feed, she will serve everyone and if there’s not enough to go around, she will go without. Mothers do that—she is a mother! But he won’t let her, he will give her his portion. She will argue that she doesn’t need it. He will put it in her plate. She will pass it back. This will go on for a bit, until they decide to split it in two and share.
They say they love each other like if it was the first day.
—no need to say it, it’s so easy to see!