Studio 54 didn't amount to much. It didn't make it 5.4 years, let alone 54 years. It couldn't survive its own fame/infamy. Very little does in our pop-culture obsessed world today, except for the awful Kardashians, but I digress.
I know some people for whom the number 54 has some significance, especially today. They are decidedly not 'Studio 54' types. Never have been and never would be. I mean the man I am thinking of was more comfortable mowing the lawn in a suit, so hitting the glitter covered dance floor is beyond the realm of consideration. Of course, I speak of my parents. Today, 23 December, would have been there 54th wedding anniversary. They were married 50 years before my father died in 2009. In today's society, keeping a marriage together five years is seen as nothing short of wondrous, so my parents making it to 50 was frankly, a miracle akin to Moses' going mano-a-mano with the Red Sea and parting it.
I've told their story briefly here in the Den before in observance of their anniversary in past years. Here's what I know - I was born of goodly, and Godly, parents. They did their best as they started their family when most of their friends were already a ways down the child-rearing path. They did their best to juggle the demands of God, family, and professional work. My father never failed to put my mother first and make it clear that she was the 'Queen' in our home. Some today may call that old-fashioned, but I call it one of the reasons that theirs was a love affair of 50-plus years. Theirs was a marriage that lasted, and I believe, will last for the eternities. I am grateful for that and for their example. Eternally grateful.
It would be wonderful to be able to wish them both a happy anniversary today but that's not possible right now. I'll call my mom to be sure. I suspect my dad has been closer to her today than she might suspect. Even though death may separate us physically, we are never that far apart. In that, I am comforted.