Growing up in the 90s, many of my best friends were among the first wave of children left to the co-misery of throbbing pop music, and classic tomes penned by dark, affected artists all because their parents' divorce left them cynical and disenchanted by age 14. I watched as my friends' understanding of stability and expectations of relationships were extracted from their realm of existence like a tonsil. They were latch-key kids, kids who were left to deal with the unfair shuffling and apathy that engulfs an adolescent forced to take a backseat to dad's diva girlfriend, or mom's new baby.

My family, however, was as square as the three meals my mother cooked us each day and as stable as the kitchen table we all assembled around every. single. night.

This stands as further proof that even the most shining examples of hetero-normative happiness can still produce a really gay kid (three of them, to be exact).

My old man passed away seven years ago, but he lived to celebrate his 40th wedding anniversary. My mom called me this afternoon and mentioned gleefully that 50 years ago today was her first fateful meeting with my father. The sweetness with which she recounted this tale could have been served from the soda fountain at the bar where they would have enjoyed each others company on black-and-white tile floors, sitting on stools wrapped in shiny red vinyl for the first time.

My lasting wish is that I may one day know a love as sweet and sturdy as theirs.

At least I know it's possible.

Listen to Mary's mom tell the story of love at first sight in this VIDEO:

Mary Buckheit is a freelance writer based in San Diego. A long-time columnist for ESPN Music; her essays have also appeared in Boston Spirit Magazine, FlawLes Magazine, AfterEllen.com and GayTravel.com. Follow her on Twitter @MaryBside.