There are moments when the world feels like it is spinning faster than the human heart was ever meant to handle. Every day brings another headline filled with division, tragedy, violence, uncertainty, fear, or exhaustion. People wake up already overwhelmed before their feet even touch the floor. Anxiety hums constantly in the background of modern life like static no one can fully escape. Some days it feels as though humanity has forgotten how to slow down long enough to breathe, love, listen, or heal. It is hard not to look around sometimes and wonder if the world has lost its way. People are more connected digitally than ever before, yet loneliness continues spreading quietly through countless lives. Families sit in the same rooms while staring into separate screens. Friendships weaken beneath busyness. Compassion often feels drowned out by outrage. Everyone seems exhausted, angry, distracted, or afraid of something. Even children carry burdens previous generations never imagined at ...
If they were alive today, two people who taught me what love truly looks like would be celebrating their seventy eighth wedding anniversary. My mom and my dad. Even writing those words feels both beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time because a love like theirs was rare. It was steady. Enduring. Familiar in the deepest sense of the word. They did not simply meet somewhere along the road of life. They knew each other as children. Before careers, before responsibilities, before wrinkles and gray hair, before grief and hardship and all the seasons life eventually brings. They shared literally a lifetime together. There is something sacred about that kind of history. Most people spend their lives searching for someone who truly knows them. Someone who remembers where they came from. Someone who witnessed the earliest versions of who they were before the world changed them. My parents had that. They grew up alongside one another. Their memories were woven together long before marriage...