Today would have been my parents' diamond wedding anniversary.  I am not sure quite why this thought struck me yesterday, but it did.

This photo was taken at my brother's wedding in 1985, and is one of the few I have with the two of them together. 

There were never any photos of their wedding, which took place on a Friday in a London registry office, so far as I can recall accompanied only by their witnesses, Terry and Julie, the latter apparently inspiring my third name.

Theirs was no idyllic marriage, but they brought up their children to the very best of their ability: I always knew they loved me, and that they wanted the best for me, which is really all anyone can ask. 

My Mum was widowed as long as she was married, and missed my Dad all that time.  They stuck together for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health until they were parted by death - that in itself is worth recalling.

Thank you Mum and Dad for giving me the gift of life, for the ways that you shaped my thinking and being, and for the memories that surprise and delight me in their recollection.