My parents married young, freshly eighteen and equipped with a newborn — me. They didn’t have full-time jobs or a place of their own. Dad worked in construction at the time, I believe. Mom had just graduated high school with her CNA. They were young, in love and nobody — especially on my Mom’s side — thought they could make it.

They moved in with Dad’s parents and soon after got their own place. It was tough, and soon they moved back in with my grandparents. When I was a little over three they got a place of their own, just around the corner from my grandparents’ house. I remember going there while Mommy and Daddy worked. Soon my little sister was born. I’m betting that at this point, all the doubters really thought the odds were against them.

They’ve had setbacks, just like any other couple. Bills too high to pay, cars breaking down left and right, a teenage daughter — yours truly — on a depressed rampage to off herself, and all the other things that come at high school sweethearts. Still, they plowed on.

Today makes twenty years since they were married. I was almost two months old at the time, and they most likely spent their honeymoon sleeplessly feeding my perpetually hungry mouth and changing my dirty baby-poo filled diapers. Today, they are still — perhaps disgustingly — in love. They still laugh and joke, bust each other’s asses and go out on dates. They still fight and get on each other’s nerves on occasion. They have bravely accomplished what most people married out of high school rarely do and proved many people wrong. If I ever get married, I think my marriage will be more likely to succeed because of them and the love that they’ve taught me. I don’t think any other kids in the world have known as much love as my sister and I.

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad.