My parents have been gone for many years now, but for some reason, I never forget their wedding anniversary. Perhaps it's because through them I had such amazing proof that love exists and endures, despite trying circumstances. My parents' marriage wasn't perfect, but even at those most difficult moments, there was a light that would appear on each of their faces when they spoke of the other.
Here's a short excerpt from one of my father's letters to my mother: “[By] writing about my feelings in these brief lines, I mitigate somewhat my desire to tell you these things in person; I live in hope of having you next to me, to squeeze your beautiful hands, and to take refuge in the oasis of your love.” That has to be the most fitting caption for the photo below.
This photo isn't dated, but from my mother's hair, and the background view, I think this was taken while they were living in their first apartment in Old Havana, probably around 1954.