Happy Anniversary

When I cleaned out my parent’s house, tucked inside their desk was a hidden treasure. A small stack of faded letters tied with a blue ribbon. I recognized my father’s handwriting immediately. My father, the least romantic person I knew, had been so in love with my mother that he wrote her love letters. Growing up I rarely saw them kiss or show any physical display of affection. And yet, my mother kept these letters as a testament to their love.  Sometimes love can be silent.