Bobby graduated from high school in 1969, the very famous year that many called “The Year of Love.” He married his childhood sweetheart Claire one month later, and within a year, their little family numbered three.
Then came another child, and another, and another, all in quick succession until they decided their quiver was full at seven. Bobby and Claire were never happier.
Their home was filled to the brim with babies, diapers, bottles, toddlers, preschoolers, messes, spills, and toys. Laughing, crying, playing, squabbling. Sadness, happiness, joy, and love. Especially love.
Endless years of elementary school, sports, and sleepovers. Teacher conferences, music lessons, recitals and plays. Scrapes, cuts, bruises and bandaids. Winning, losing, trophies and awards. And a home filled with love. Especially love.
Endless years of high school, college, and cars. Boyfriends, girlfriends, and best friends. Jobs and promotions, moving up and moving out. Engagements, marriages, families, and grandchildren. And love. Especially love.
But endless is not forever.
Decades passed, and before they knew it, Bobby and Claire were all alone. For the first time in more years than they could recall, their home was, on most days, quiet — an empty nest devoid of children, grandchildren, and the joyful chaos and energy that they brought along.
On closer look though, their home was not empty at all. It brimmed to overflowing with a lifetime of treasured memories. Memories of life, laughter, joy, and love. And especially love.
