My parents stood side by side at the bathroom mirror, each of them beginning their morning routine before a work day.  My mom looked at their side-by-side reflection and started to laugh, just a little.

Dad smiled at her.  “What’s so funny over there?”

“Look at us.”  She gestured to the mirror.  He met her eyes in their reflection.  They are an older, grayer version of the two they’ve always been.  “If you look closely,” she said, “can you see us as newlyweds?  Do you see those two twenty-one-year-olds?”

He smiled.  “I can.”

“I can too.  Your eyes haven’t changed.  I can still see that young man I fell in love with.”

“And I can still see the girl who stole my heart.”

They stood in silence, taking each other in.

He said, “I guess we’re keeping our promise, then.  Growing old together.”

“Yep.  I guess we are.”

(The gift of my parents’ love story stretches generations long.)

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